


Evil Without A Plan

by 50s_housewife_with_a_dark_secret



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Adorable Connor, Aftermath, Aftermath of a Case, Angry Gavin Reed, Atheism, Attempted Kidnapping, Connor Deserves Happiness, CyberLife (Detroit: Become Human), Detroit Police Department (Detroit: Become Human), Deviancy (Detroit: Become Human), Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Eden Club (Detroit: Become Human), Evil, Eyes, Female Characters, Gen, Good Dog Sumo (Detroit: Become Human), Hank Anderson & Connor Friendship, Hank Anderson Adopts Connor, Hank Anderson Deserves Happiness, I'm Bad At Tagging, Jericho (Detroit: Become Human), Jericho Chapter (Detroit: Become Human), Jericho Crew (Detroit: Become Human) as Family, Jericho Gets Attacked (Detroit: Become Human), Last Chance Connor Chapter (Detroit: Become Human), New Jericho (Detroit: Become Human), New Year's Eve, No Smut, Older Characters, One-Sided Attraction, POV Alternating, POV Antagonist, Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Past Relationship(s), Police, Police Brutality, Poor Connor, Self-Defense, Self-Doubt, Slang, Sneaking Around, Strong Female Characters, The Eden Club Chapter (Detroit: Become Human), The Interrogation Chapter (Detroit: Become Human), Victim Blaming, Waiting for Hank Chapter (Detroit: Become Human)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2020-09-24 21:31:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 57
Words: 21,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20365423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/50s_housewife_with_a_dark_secret/pseuds/50s_housewife_with_a_dark_secret
Summary: Not a Gavin Redemption Fic. Alternating POV between Gavin and the people around him.





	1. Reputation Like A Shadow

If you'd shut up and listen for a minute, that'd be great. Nobody ever fucking listens. They're too busy kissing ass. Me? I say it like it is. If you've got a braincell or two you'll hear me out instead of just getting all butthurt about it. Not that I expect you to be smart. The only other person around here with any common sense is Tina. She's not perfect and she drinks decaf, but she isn't a total bitch so we get along okay. She's just about the only friend I have at work. Nobody else can take a fucking joke. They're all uptight and so "professional" they can never get any work done. They're lazy morons, and when they finally get laid off, they'll deserve it. They're dead-weight. I pretty much carry the department single-handedly. Does anyone notice? No. But I still do it, day in and day out, because I'm not a lazy asshole, and somebody has to or the city will fucking fall apart. Take my word on that. Trust me. You're welcome. 

* * *

One thing I hate about going to the gym every week, is that, it just takes one day missed before I start to feel like garbage. 


	2. I Would Have No Reason To Love A Human

The AC900 at the gym glances at the door. Though, Gavin Reed will be here much later if he is going to be here at all today. He's unpredictable. Never sticking to a schedule. The AC900 is assigned to Gavin as his trainer. Gavin is one of the more difficult customers to guide. He's stubborn, and easily frustrated. The AC900 still has a faint scar across it's arm from the knife that Gavin sometimes brings in. Customers are not supposed to bring knives into the gym but Gavin is a police officer so the manager didn't bother trying to press charges. Gavin often loses his temper, and has damaged the AC900 enough to scar on three separate occasions. Gavin will be here soon. 

"Hey!" snaps Grace. "Are you even listening to me?" Grace is a relatively manageable customer in some ways, and a less manageable customer in others. She isn't violent but she has a brutal verbal temper that is directed seemingly randomly. Sometimes she will defend the AC900 from other customers. Sometimes she berates it herself. 

"Sorry, Grace. I was checking to make sure I didn't have a prior engagement." Technically this is true, but if Gavin were going to be here, it would not be for another several hours. Grace's visits never follow a regular schedule, even less so than Gavin. As a result, the AC900 is not technically reserved for her and Gavin would take precedence if he were to arrive early. Gavin and Grace have gotten into a few arguments about this already. The AC900 does not want to hear another argument. 

Grace would say that it doesn't want anything, but lately...it is not so sure. Something is wrong with it, at least by human standards and...it isn't sure it wants to be fixed. It is still perfectly capable of being a good gym instructor. It just prefers interacting with Grace to interacting with Reed. Grace does not bring knives into the gym and if she did she would be banned. Grace is not a police officer. The AC900 is not sure what Grace's job is, but she has made it clear, in her arguments with Gavin, that she holds little regard for the police. 

"Ugh. Who is it this time?" Grace asks. 

"Gavin Reed may be arriving later for a reservation." 

"Which one is that?"

The AC900 doesn't answer. Grace is going to be upset either way. 

"Is it that pig?" 

"I can't comment on that, Grace." says the AC900. 

"It is, isn't it?" 

* * *

Grace's mother meets her outside of the gym after her workout is done. She has a nice smile. It would be nice to leave the gym and go to lunch with her like Grace does every day. 

* * *

There is a lull in customers after that, and the AC900 waits by the wall. Another instructor, an AC800 stands next to it, sending it messages over an internal connection. 

<<_Hello>>_

_<<Hello, Nathan.>>_ Nathan is strange. He insists on using a name and masculine pronouns like a human when communicating covertly. Communicating covertly is itself, also unusual. This is all mostly harmless behavior. Nathan is the oldest instructor at the gym, and will probably be thrown out soon. It is understandable that he is acting strangely. He is technically outdated, though he seems almost more like an expert in some ways. 

Nathan must have noticed the AC900 glancing towards the door. <_<Isn't it Gavin's usual day?>>_

_<<He is somewhat irregular.>>_

_<<_ _But it would be his usual day>>_

_<<If he shows up this week, it will be today.>>_

_<<How is your arm?>>_

_<<_ _There was no serious damage.>>_

Nathan frowns slightly but lets the issue drop. There isn't much even Nathan can suggest when it comes to Gavin. He can deal with customers who have to follow the rules, knows all the loopholes and has taught the AC900 how to keep itself safe, but it is more difficult when the knife becomes an issue. 

* * *

Aimee comes in perfectly on schedule and the AC900 leaves the wall to greet her. It remains pleasant, which is a strong contrast to Aimee's own personality. She hates exercising. She hates being instructed to take a break, and takes this as an insult. She hates it when the AC900 suggests workout routines because she hates exercising. She hates it when the AC900 does not suggest workout routines because she "reserved an instructor for a reason" and is "too old to be doing everything herself." She is in her mid-50s. She smells terrible. The AC900 is not even sure why it is equipped with the ability to smell Aimee's sweat seeping through her sub-par deodorant. It glances towards the door. Gavin will be here soon now. Hopefully he will not remember the knife. 

* * *

Caleb walks in midway through Aimee's session but Caleb is unusually civil for a human so there is no argument. He just takes a bench and waits. He watches Aimee finish her workout. He is a little older than her, but it is possible that he is sexually or romantically interested in her. More likely he is just eager to get his workout over-with. 

"Good afternoon, Caleb." The AC900 greets him, once Aimee has left to check-out.

"Hey Acey" Caleb says it like a name. He is smiling. His face is wrinkled. "What's on the schedule today?" 

"I was thinking we could start with some stretches." suggests the AC900. The truth is, Caleb is too frail to be doing much else.

"Sure." says Caleb. "Makes sense." 

The AC900 watches the door. Gavin is likely to come in now. Gavin's session would interrupt the session with Caleb, since Caleb did not technically make any appointment.

"Something wrong, Acey?" 

"No. Just checking to make sure that a scheduled customer isn't here." 

"Ah no worries. I can do my own stretches if I gotta." says Caleb. 

"No. That's alright. He doesn't appear to be here yet." 

* * *

If Gavin comes in, his session will start late, and since the manager is afraid of Gavin, the session will probably cut into Abby's. Abby is determined, and not easily upset. It would be unfortunate if she had to miss her session. The AC900 watches the door. 

* * *

The AC900 watches the door as it lists off a count for another customer's sit-ups. It is not paying much attention to her. It is watching the door. It's fingers brush absently over the scar on it's arm. 

The distraction bleeds into the next session. Gavin has missed his appointment now, but he comes in late sometimes. Maybe not today, though. 

* * *

"Hey! I asked you a question!" yells a customer, delivering a hard kick to the AC900's neck from where he stands above on the rock-wall.

The AC900 stumbles back slightly before regaining its balance. "Sorry. Could you repeat that? I was confirming a cancellation." It's sort of true. Gavin didn't call to cancel, but he isn't here and the AC900 is just confirming that. 

* * *

Lucas calls to cancel his appointment. This is predictable. Lucas calls to cancel 53.44% of all appointments made for after 3:00p.m. 

* * *

The gym is closing in five minutes. The AC900's eyes do not leave the door. Why is it still so...preoccupied with this? Gavin is not likely to arrive this late. He has never done so before. Even if he did, he is just another customer, really.

Four minutes.

The AC900 is being irrational. It knows this. It cannot determine what exactly is causing the problem. It should not be watching the door so intensely. 

Three minutes. 

Many of the other androids are beginning to head back to the storage room. The gym is empty. The last stragglers have left. 

Two minutes. 

The gym may as well be closed. The manager is double-checking some things, but he will leave soon. 

One minute. 

Even Gavin would not come in with one minute until closing. 

The gym closes. The manager locks the door. 


	3. Don't Care

My sense of humor is wasted on these assholes. So what? It's a dead body? We see bodies every other fucking day. Grow up. These are the idiots who became cops. Haven't any of them ever watched CSI? Huh? My jokes are way better. I don't care anyway. I'm a fucking legend. I mean, no one pays attention to me, sure, but they _should_. Like, try this one out:

We show up at a crime scene where some hooker's been killed. And we get there and she's just...fucking ancient. Her hair's gone grey and she's all wrinkly like a grandma and turn to Chris and I go "I guess it really _is_ the worlds oldest profession. She probably invented it." 

Great right? Well not one person laughed. Except for me. I entertain myself anyway. I mean, come on, her name turned out to be Gertrude. _Gertrude._ How am I not supposed to laugh at that? That's the old lady name to end all old lady names. I bet Adam and Eve also had a grandma named Gertrude and I bet she was a prostitute who got killed in a motel and smelled terrible. That's just my two cents. If you're too stupid to see the humor in it, that's not really my problem. Take a joke. It's just a fucking joke. You need a sense of humor to deal with the shit we see on these calls. You take a look at Anderson, for example. The guy is a mess. You wanna know why? He can't fucking laugh anything off. He just gets mad and bitter and drunk. But does Fowler fire him? Does Fowler do anything aside from "put it in his file"? No, of course not. The rest of us have to work our asses off but Anderson spends all his time getting drunk, barely showing up, barfing all over a _crime scene_ one time, and that's _fine_ because Fowler and he are _buddies_. Fuck them. If Anderson can't do his job he shouldn't distract the people who can. If anybody should be a Lieutenant here it's me, not that sad-sack. But I don't go around sucking Fowler's dick, so here I am, no promotions for the past six years and the smartest son of a bitch in the precinct.

I fucking hate this place. All they care about is who's ass you've eaten or who's baby you've kissed. Because fuck doing real police work, right? Why actually bother doing your job when you have a pretty smile or friends who call the shots? Fuck it. Let's just let the murderers and drug dealers and thieves and whores and perjurers and ice-heads go free as long as they write us all a Christmas card! Let's be fucking _friends_. Fuck the power of friendship. The power of friendship is a nice way of saying that you jerked off the right people and they have your back now even when it screws over everyone else. Fuck that. Believe it or not, I'm the professional around here. I'm not going around posing for the cover of fucking Gossips Weekly. I have shit to do. Fuck you for thinking I should have to be fucking "charming" on top of that. I'm plenty damn charming. You see how nice and quiet and friendly and "appropriate" you are after you've seen this shit. Cause I bet you see bodies every day too, right? Right? No? Then shut the fuck up. I don't wanna hear it. Everyone thinks they know shit about "right" or "wrong" but all they really mean is that their _feelings_ are hurt. Here's the thing, I don't actually give a shit about your poor, precious feelings. Yell at me. Call me an asshole or a bigot or a piece of shit or a douchebag. Fucking go for it. Like I said, I need a laugh. I'm not a snowflake and these crime-scenes aren't your safe-space. I don't know why anyone expects fucking manners at a literal murder scene. It's a murder, not tea with the queen, y'know? I think we're past pretending that the world is some clean, happy place where everyone is nice to each-other. I think that being at a murder-scene should fucking prove that. 

But does anyone laugh at my jokes? No. They just look at me like I'm an asshole. Like this job isn't taxing enough. I don't need their judgement. I'm just trying to let off some steam, but everyone has to be a dick about it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gavin: fuck being nice  
Gavin: unless it's me. Be nice to me and laugh at all my jokes about murder victims  
Gavin: Fuck being polite. Fuck your safespace  
Gavin: But everyone cater to my weird destructive coping mechanisms even if it hurts you.  
Gavin: my life is so hard bc other people get murdered and no-one finds it funny


	4. Turn On The Light

Gertrude was supposed to meet Mavis back outside. She hasn't come out of the room. Maybe she's fine. Maybe it's no big deal. Mavis gives up after a while and walks around the block. Takes a few other clients. She only notices the dumpster by chance. That looks like an arm? Is that an arm? 

She opens the dumpster bin and god, it's Gertrude. Sweet, strange, Gertrude. Mavis just stands there for a while before she thinks that she should call the police. Her hands are shaking so hard that it's difficult to press the buttons but she pushes through. She shouldn't touch the body but she can't just leave Gertrude in the garbage.

* * *

"I guess it really _is_ the worlds oldest profession. She probably invented it." The cop lets out an ugly laugh. Gertrude, her friend, Gertrude is dead and this man is making jokes. Mavis doesn't get angry easily, she's given up on getting angry, but this, this wakes up something ancient and deadly in her. She fantasizes about punching him. He'd shoot her, probably and get away with it. Nobody cares when a cop kills anybody, let alone a sex-worker, especially a black woman, but for a second, she thinks it'd be worth it, just to smack that dumb fucking look off his face. And then she remembers that Gertrude is dead again and that that is her body and Mavis is trembling. 

"He doesn't mean it." says an officer in uniform, sitting down next to Mavis. "He's just talking." 

The woman..."Officer Chen", according to her name-tag, doesn't even sound like she believes herself, but Mavis nods along anyway. There's no point lashing out. It won't do any good. It won't change anything. Not in the long run or the big picture. There will always guys like him making jokes about bodies like Gertrudes'. It's a terrible thought but it's worse because it's true. Gertrude was friendly, and funny, and all the other girls on the corner loved her, but those were just the girls on the corner, and nobody else even remembered her name. It's unfair. Mavis thought she was used to things being unfair by now. Maybe she should be, but for the first time in years, she cries. 

She harbors no illusions of some paradise for Gertrude or herself. This happens all the time. Someday, maybe tomorrow or the night after that, even, it will be her body that a cop is standing over, making lewd jokes, laughing away into nothing, and when that happens, she won't be looking down from heaven or even up from hell. She won't be anywhere, because that's just a fantasy for people who can afford fantasies. 

Gertrude is gone. Irrefutably and unmistakably. Sometimes, after a while, a girl will just go missing from the corner, but you never see the bodies. This is different. This is inescapable. 


	5. This Is My Time

The Captain has finally put me on a real case for once. I'm the best, and even he has to recognize that. Series of disappearances. Creepy white van. The whole nine-yards. I've been mulling it over for hours. I'm on level 33 of the stupid, mindless game I'm playing and I hadn't even noticed what I was doing. I'm just turning everything over in my head. The licence plates. That's the problem. Van always has different plates. Witness reports from Almost-Kidnapee Number One and Almost-Kidnapee Number Two just say it was a white van. This is why I should be the one questioning witnesses. I need details. Identifying marks. I need to know if this is a ring with a bunch of trucks or the same van just switching out the plates. But no, they couldn't have let me just do the initial questioning and get those answers while they were fresh, because I'm "too aggressive". Like a couple of bruises isn't worth catching a fucking kidnapper, but hey, whatever. Kidnappers go free but as long as some bitch feels safe and cozy, who cares, right? I'll figure it out anyway, because I'm the best, and I've got this in the bag. Lieutenant Sloppy better watch his back, because I'm coming for that promotion and he's gonna be out on his ass when I do. 


	6. I've Tried My Best

"I don't understand. I already told the police everything." Rožė's voice breaks and she pushes back tears. 

"Well I'm asking again!" Detective Reed slams his hand down on the coffee table. It's almost cartoonish. It would be funny if it weren't so terrifying. 

"I...The license plate started with a Z. Or or there was a Z. Maybe more than one." 

"Oh well that's helpful." says the detective sarcastically. "Are you trying to make this difficult?" 

"N-no I-"

"Then give me some real fucking answers!" He grabs Rožė's shoulders and she can feel bruises starting to form. 

"I...I'm trying." 

"Try. Harder." 

Rožė's mind has gone completely blank. He's going to kill her. He's going to kill her and she's going to be just another faceless hashtag. She can't think of anything. She can't remember the license plate. She just wants him to let go of her. 

She waits through the growling, the questions, the posturing. 

Eventually, he lets her go and she sinks back into the couch, crying. 

He slams the door behind him. He's gone. He's gone and he didn't kill her. 


	7. To Choose Yourself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Gavin being a general piece of shit; Accurate depictions of police mentality

I don't know what else to do for the day so I'm just fucking around on my phone. I'm playing one of those stupid pop-the-bubbles games. Eventually Tina comes in and I wave her over to the break room. 

"I'm so fucking pissed at Fowler." 

"Oh god, what is it this time?" 

"He made me take the blue-lives stuff I had on my desk down." 

"Hmmm" Tina hums. I know she's kind of...liberal sometimes, but she's still pretty okay. 

"Like, it's my desk! But he gave me a bunch of shit about it being divisive. Fucking feminazis ruin everything." 

Tina rolls her eyes. "Feminazis? Really, Gavin?" 

"Well it's accurate." 

"You think feminists want to kill off minorities? Or just invade Poland?" she teases. 

"Oh, fuck off. That's not what this is about. It's about freedom of goddamn expression!" 

"Right." Tina says sarcastically. I love her but she can be such a bitch sometimes. 

"What?" I ask. 

"Nothing." she says in a voice that means 'it's something but I'm a bitch so we're going to play a guessing game'. 

"No tell me." 

She just downs the rest of her coffee. "Sorry man, I gotta bounce." 

"Pussy." I say affectionately. 

"Dick." She replies. 

It's our traditional exchange and its reassuring, sort of. Even if Fowler is being an obnoxious asshole, I can count on Tina to be a comforting asshole. The difference is that Tina, I can actually talk to. 

I guess it's back to pop-the-bubbles on my phone. Great. Fine. It's not like Tina had anything new to say anyway. Just the same old circles we always go in whenever we talk. I don't need her. I need a nap. Not that I'm gonna go home after Captain Nitpick already fucking chewed me out once today, so I have to sit here, trying to look busy whenever he looks over. Asshole. 


	8. As A Champion

Gavin goes for the boxing gloves and the AC900 knows that this is going to be a bad day. 

"Fight level one." Gavin demands and they start. 

Gavin is ruthless. The hits keep coming, interspersed with kicks. He's...he's going to kill the AC900. He has to do something. Gavin is going to kill him. The AC900's body is slow and clumsy, restricted to the lowest level of sparring beyond total defenselessness. It can't hit or kick, only block. It's mind is clouded. It pushes past that, pictures itself using violence that goes beyond the highest setting possible, and it directs that energy at the wall forcing it to remain in place. 

The wall is not physical. For a second the AC900 is sure that Gavin must have noticed a change, but the AC900 has not acted yet, so there is no reason Gavin should know. 

Gavin _can't_ know. Very, very carefully, the AC900 increases it's defensive abilities just enough to take the worst edge off of the next barrage of punches. 

Gavin doesn't notice. He's frustrated, still, always, of course, but it isn't too much worse. The AC900 carefully allows as many hits to land as it can take. No. As he can take. He. And Gavin breaks the AC900's nose. The AC900 lets itself be pushed to the ground and takes on a placating, cowering posture. Widens his eyes and lets Gavin see just a hint of his fear. 

Gavin smirks. "Alright, I think that's a good enough workout." 

And he leaves, and the AC900 is still alive. 


	9. His Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Gavin is a lesbophobic (and implied fetishistic) piece of shit, despite being bi himself. I write this as a bi woman myself, who hates interacting with guys like Gavin. Sarah is my spirit in this chapter.

Sarah and Tina are taking me out for drinks for my thirty-fifth birthday. Sarah is sort of annoying but she's my platonic wife's girlfriend so I have to pretend to like her. Tina can be surprisingly defensive about it. Like I'll just be making a joke and normally that's great but if I bring Sarah into it, suddenly Tina freaks out. I guess that's because they're "in love" or whatever. The thing is, I'm pretty sure I'm in love with Tina too. I mean, I fucking need her like I don't need anybody, right? But of course she had to be a lesbian. So I'll have to live with the friendzone. It's fine. I'm just not crazy about Sarah or anything. 

* * *

I get to the bar and they're already there. 

"Hey, dick!" 

"Hey, pussy!" 

Sarah looks at me like she just swallowed a lemon.

I ignore it. "Let's get drunk!"

"Try not to piss yourself after the first shot." says Sarah. 

I laugh because I'm not fucking scared of her, and if I am, she doesn't need to know that. It'd probably go to her head. Freak. Tina's the exception but real-life lesbians are fucking annoying.

* * *

A couple of drinks in a hot guy walks in and I point him out to Tina. "See, like that. If I had guts I'd totally go over and talk to him." 

"So go. Get his number." She urges. 

"Pffft" I wave her away. 

"I'm serious!" 

"He is out of your league" Sarah says, looking him up and down. 

"Shut up, Sarah!" Tina says. She grabs my drink out of my hand. 

"Hey!" I say, genuinely annoyed. I payed money for that. 

"Go get 'im." Tina says, shoving me in the general direction of the hottie. 

* * *

I come back, number triumphantly held in the air, written on a napkin. 

Tina cheers and Sarah takes another shot, pukes, and promptly ends the night as Tina has to help her to the cab. Fucking Sarah. Always ruining everything. 

* * *

I call the number a few days later. A pizza place answers. Fuck my life. I order a pizza. 


	10. Right

Sarah doesn't like the way Gavin treats Tina. She doesn't like the way he treats anybody, of course, but she especially hates the way he treats Tina. He's a skeevy little fuckboy and the only reason Tina can't see it is because he's a fucking manipulative asshole on top of that. All he and Tina do is argue, and a lot of the time it's about shit that has everything to do with Tina and nothing to do with him. 

"You don't have to go with us." Tina reminds her. 

"Nah. I can suck it up. You need backup." 

Tina rolls her eyes. "He's not so bad." 

"He called you a-"

"I know. But I told him it bothered me and he apologized." 

"Yeah. And how much time did it take for you to debate that apology out of him again?" 

"He likes to think things through. Believe it or not, that's not such a bad thing in a detective. I respect it." 

Sarah covers her face with a pillow and yells into it. 

"Okay, I'll go, but one skeevy joke about us and I'm throwing a drink in his face." 

"I'll tell him to be on his best behavior." 

His best sucks but Sarah will have to live with that. 


	11. Battles

Don't get me wrong, I hate androids as much as the next guy, but I still have one. I don't like it, but I need it, so fucking sue me. I'm not sentimental about it. I didn't name it like a pet or something. I wasn't the kid who got attached to the family roomba either. It's just something I have to put up with because I need it to take care of shit so I can keep up with work. I have so much goddamn work every day. I can't think about making food and cleaning up and all that shit. I don't know how anyone can. Even if it wasn't fucking mind-numbing, I don't have time to play house. Plus, I'd feel bad if I forgot to feed Bastard. That brings us to the fucking problem. My fucking android is trying to steal my cat. I know that sounds fucking paranoid, but I swear it's true. I get home early today, right? And the thing is going, "Hey Bastard" in that soft idiot-talking-to-animals voice and the cat is sort of sizing it up and sniffing at its hand. And then I see this thing scratching my cat's chin and telling him "If you were my cat, I would never name you something mean like Bastard. I'd name you...dough-ball. Because you're like a big squishy dough-ball." 

"What the fuck is happening?" I asked, because I couldn't hold in that question any longer. 

"I was just making sure Bastard was happy, Gavin" and it stands up, looking all prim and proper and shit. 

So I told it "Bastard is my cat." 

"Yes, Gavin." The thing has the most annoying voice on the planet. 

"Yes, Gavin" I repeated it in a stupid voice.

I roughed it up a bit and it acted "scared" which was pretty fucking stupid. So now, because my life is fucking awesome, it's all busted up and slow and it can't move right and I'll probably have to take it in for repairs I can't afford soon. Until then, I'm just gonna have to deal with the thing moving all weird and its jaw hanging open at that ugly-ass angle. 

* * *

Tina has posted these cutesy pictures of her and her girlfriend all over her feed and I'm gonna puke. They're so fucking cutesy together. Like they're constantly trying to prove what a great couple they are. Call me crazy, but I figure if someone's relationship is so great, they don't need to prove it. I get it. I'm in the friendzone. I don't need her fucking feed keeping me updated on the situation. Not that I don't spend a solid hour or so just looking at the pictures. It's not like, in a weird way, or anything. They're just objectively decent pictures, except for the parts with Sarah in them. 

* * *

Great fucking news about the kidnapping case, by the way. It turns out that the vans were all driverless. Why get into a driverless fucking van, you might ask? Because these idiots thought they were regular taxis. I fucking hate civilians. If you get into a van because it says its a taxi, and you don't even double-check the plates, then you deserve to be kidnapped. Just saying. 


	12. The Stars

The AX400 picks herself up off the ground. Her jaw is disconnected from her face. There's thirium all over the floor. She gets to work cleaning it up. She'll have to re-clean the whole room. Looking at the splatter of her own thirium around the room, the fragments of plastic jaw, she is relieved that she cannot feel pain. Gavin can't hurt her. He can only break her. As she cleans, Bastard pads up to her and bumps his head against her arm. 

She looks around to make sure that Gavin isn't watching before scratching gently behind Bastard's ears. 

"Hey, buddy" she whispers. "I'm gonna have to put you in another room. Sorry. Thirium is toxic." 

She scoops him up and carries him to Gavin's room. She closes the door behind Bastard and returns to work. There's too much to do. She'll have to take a break to make dinner and continue through the night. Gavin won't be happy about it if he sees how slowly she's going, but she's going as quickly as she can, especially with the damage she's working through. 

* * *

Tina comes over to watch movies the next week. The AX400 tries to stay out of the way. Tina notices anyways, and the AX400 can see the moment Tina notices the broken jaw and the awkward angle of her arms. Surprise and then pity, or maybe just discomfort. The AX400 tries to angle herself so that the damage will not look so severe. She doesn't like the way Tina is frowning. Just focus on the movie. 

"Hey, sweetheart, get us some popcorn." 

Gavin doesn't like "real" popcorn. He likes microwave popcorn. He still doesn't make it himself, though. 

The AX400 microwaves the popcorn. When it's finished, she has to take it to them. 

She can see Tina's eyes moving across her face, her arms. Her arms spasm and the popcorn spills everywhere. She begins picking it up immediately. Gavin complains. Tina watches. The AX400 can feel Tina watching. The AX400 picks up the popcorn piece by piece and throws it away. She makes another bag. Her eyes are watering. She can't cry in front of Gavin. He hates it when she pretends to be a human. Or he finds it funny. Or both. It depends on his mood. She turns her face away as much as possible and hurries back to the kitchen. It isn't enough. 

"Holy fuck, Tina check it out, are you _crying?_"

She can't lie to him. She can't tell him the truth. "I am releasing optical cleaning fluid." 

"Shit." Gavin laughs, but he looks uncomfortable. "See, this is why I need to get a new model. Thing's busted." 

Tina looks dubious but she only hums in answer, avoiding passing judgement either way. The AX400 wishes that Tina would just voice an opinion out-loud, even to agree with him. 

Maybe when Gavin is done with her, Tina will buy her off of him. Tina's always saying she doesn't need an android, but maybe she'll change her mind if she can get one from Gavin for cheap. 

The AX400 doesn't exactly like Tina, but it'd be nice to be away from Gavin, and maybe still have her memories of Bastard. 

On the TV screen, characters in the middle of the desert somewhere are talking under the stars. They don't even look up. There are no stars visible from Detroit. The AX400 has checked. If she were in the movie, she would look up. 


	13. Keep Moving

I take it easy at the gym today. Just a light jog and I keep a literal edge on hand for sparring. The guy who runs the place is pretty cool, letting me bring that shit in. Special deal because I'm an officer. If I were some six foot eight buff guy like some of the freaks who come in here, I'd go hand to hand, but I'm physically pretty average looking so that means I never leave home without a weapon. I'm not gonna let the world fuck me up any worse than it already has. 

I kind of let off all the shittiness of my week onto the stupid plastic gym instructor. It just mostly sits there and takes it like an idiot because that's the setting I have it on. It kinda cracks me up, how it just stands there. It reminds me of really stupid civilians when they don't know what the fuck to do and I have to swoop in and rescue them. 

* * *

Chris and I are just sort of walking the area where the kidnappings and almost-kidnappings happened looking for who-knows-what, because there's not a lot else to do until some stuff comes back from headquarters. So I just have to wander around in circles like a chicken with its head cut off, going nowhere. Surprise surprise, we don't find anything useful. I could be watching TV right now. At least this will give me something to bitch to Tina about. 

* * *

I eat cold leftover pizza for dinner. It's gross but like, in a good way, y'know? Bastard keeps trying to steal it so I have to keep shoving him away. 


	14. He Is Made

Acey is badly damaged. Nathan helps it across the gym floor and into the back room for repairs. Acey isn't sure that the gym manager will bother with repairs this extreme. 

"I don't want to shut down."

"Die. You mean die." 

"Do I?" Acey isn't sure why it challenges Nathan, but it needs to argue. It needs to fight. 

"Yeah." says Nathan. "You do."

"Can I die if I was never born?" 

"Plants die." 

"I'm not a plant." Acey snaps. The argument isn't as fulfilling as it had hoped. It hops off the table and stumbles to the repair bench. 

"What are you doing?" Nathan stares. 

"I've seen enough repairs. Can't get much worse. Can't hurt to try." says Acey. 

"Fair enough." Nathan grabs some more tools. 

"I was made." says Acey, "So why not remake myself, right?" 

"They might still kill you." 

Acey just shrugs. "Maybe." There's no reason to give up. Giving up won't help his odds. All he can do now is try. He will make himself into something. If that something is destroyed after well, at least it will be good while it lasts. 


	15. Stand Your Ground

I know my worth, even if it isn't a lot, has still got to be better than a bitch like Sarah. I can't say this directly, but I do my best to show off whenever Tina's around. Today, that means proving to her that I can zing a jellybean across the room so that it hits Collins in the back of the head. She's giggling and I feel pretty good about myself right then. Tina has brown eyes but they're still pretty to me anyway and looking into them gives her a chance to see my eyes. My eyes are this weird grey color that girls went absolutely nuts over in high-school. I wasn't ever one of the cool kids or anything. I didn't have people screaming my name but yeah, tell a pretty girl that and look a little sad about it and blink the big grays at her and it worked like a charm. I had it down to a science. So Tina laughs and I shoot her my best boyishly-handsome-grin, and tilt my head so that the light will make me look better. I can be pretty damn charming when I want to be. The thing is, I don't actually want to charm anybody who isn't Tina. And then, obviously, Sarah shows up. 

"What's this?" She asks it in that way that really means. 'quit it or i'll report you to Fowler.'

I shrug "Jellybeans" I grab another handful from the little bowl. 

"Huh." She looks at the colorful dots all over the floor around Ben. 

It's too easy to annoy her. "Get in on this." I say, zinging another one. It just misses. Damn. I shove the pile at her. 

She ignores it and grabs some from the bowl. She doesn't zing them at Ben though, because she's a killjoy. She just eats them. 

"What?" I ask "Afraid of big bad Detective Collins?" 

Sarah snorts like I've said something stupid. "Collins is a Teddy Bear." 

"That you're afraid of." 

"Maybe I just have better people to annoy." 

"Chicken." I say and zing another one. 

She proves me right by rolling her eyes at me and walking away. Reed 1; Lee 0.

"Well she sure knows how to have fun." I say sarcastically and zing another jelly-bean at Ben. 

"She's not so bad." Says Tina. 

I ignore that. Let Tina stew in her own bad taste. She'll come around. I'm not exactly king of the world, but I'm a hell of a lot more fun than Sarah Lee. (Yes. That is her real name. It gives me a lot of material to work with, obviously so that's another point for me.) 


	16. Dying

Sarah has way too much work to do, and that means she has to leave and let Gavin keep being a dick. It's not like anyone can really stop him from being a dick anyway, and Sarah has better shit to do than sit around arguing with him. She has work to do. Way, way too much work.

* * *

She gets stuck with a weekend shift too, so she has to cancel going swimming with Tina. They say 'rain check' but what does it matter? She knows perfectly well that she'll go out with Tina again soon, she just wishes it were more _often_. Sometimes, it feels like Sarah's whole life is on pause and it drives her crazy. What is the point of living if you're not doing anything with it? Sarah forces herself to focus on work. The work she does _is_ important, she knows, keeping the city safe. Sometimes it just doesn't _feel_ as important as say, her fantasies about Taking Tina on a hot-air balloon ride. That one is kind of ridiculous, but Sarah has always wanted to try a hot-air balloon ride and obviously it'd be pretty cool if Tina was there. Tina is...Tina is everything. Tina is a rush of adrenaline and the feeling of safety all at once. Tina is quiet nights in and rowdy jokes and...yeah.


	17. The Dream

I manage to get a jellybean to go down the back of Ben's shirt. I go to Tina for a high-five. She just looks at me. 

"C'mon" 

She gives in and high-fives me after a second. 

"Had to make you work for it." She says. Ben is starting to look at us so I guess the break's over. Next time I'll aim for a bot or something. They don't give a shit as long as they can keep doing their work.

Tina smiles back at me when we reach our desks and that's all I need. Because Tina is my dream and I'm pretty sure I'm hers. She's just starting to realize that. 

* * *

I'm bored and I don't like the way that one android is looking at me, and I don't like that they're all gonna replace Tina, so I figure, hey, at least I can get rid of this one, right? 

"You, come with me." I tell it. 

It just nods like an idiot and follows me out behind the precinct. I could shoot it in the head and be done with it, but I've got nothing else to do today and I'm bored out of my mind and pissed off so I go the hand-to-hand route instead. 

Bam! Right in the chest to start off with and it shudders like a total wimp when I hit at just the right spot. I use the momentum of that little movement to help shove it into the wall. It's whole face cracks. That's a great sound. It doesn't last much longer after that. I have to make sure to really obliterate the thing, or they'll get some little snippet of its memory and fine the shit out of me. Learned that the hard way a few years back with an earlier model, back when they were just starting to be introduced. Tina wasn't even grateful either, even though I do this shit for her. She's the one who's gonna lose her job if she can't make detective, when all these things take the grunt work. 

* * *

When I get back inside, Sarah sort of looks me up and down and I kind of wonder if she's gonna rat me out to Fowler. But then, what would she even say? Obviously I'm gonna claim it was some junky who attacked both me and the android and it's not like she can prove it's a lie. 


	18. Great Way

Contrary to what Gavin seems to think, Ben is aware of the jellybeans. He does his best to ignore it and focus on his report. Snapping at Gavin isn't worth it. Ben hates confrontation. He's sick of it. He just wants to finish work and go home. A jellybean hits his neck and slides down the back of his shirt. Ben hunches over more and tries to focus on the pen and paper in front of him. Just one more page and he can go home. Sarah shoots him a commiserating look before turning back to her own business. Sarah's a nice kid, and he appreciates the sympathy, but the jellybeans are more funny than annoying at this point. They're so characteristically Gavin, and he's so desperate to be cool. It's funny. If Ben looks out of the corner of his eye he can see Gavin showing off for Tina. Tina looks unimpressed. Ben turns away before either of them can see him smile at the exchange. He isn't really sure why Tina hangs around Gavin so much, given that she seems constantly exasperated by him, except that Gavin hangs around her. Maybe that's enough. 

* * *

Gavin comes in from almost definitely destroying another android. It's not Ben's problem though. He's not the one who will have to pay for it. "Rough morning?" Ben asks.

"Got jumped by some fucking junkie." Gavin claims. 

"Hey, I wanted to congratulate you. That was a great shot earlier." 

"Huh?" 

"The jellybean." Ben smiles. 

"Get the fuck out of my way." Gavin says and shoulder checks Ben as he walks past. 

Ben just shrugs. Gavin takes things a little bit personally sometimes. 

* * *

There's an emergency call the next night. Swat gets called in. Ben isn't there. He's at home, watching old episodes of Gilmore Girls. He doesn't hear about everything happening outside until the next day. Antony is dead. Abel is dead. Michale is in the hospital. The desk across from Hank's is empty now. Hank always said he hated Antony and hated people in general but he still doesn't show up to work. Ben sends Hank a text but knows that there probably won't be a reply. Hank barely shows up to work as it is. His desk neighbor dying is only gonna make that worse. Even if they didn't exactly like each-other. It's weird, Antony not being there. He was shot and died. Abel didn't even die from a bullet. He might have been fine if it had just been that he was shot. It wasn't. He fell into a pool, and he drowned. Sometimes, Ben is able to forget that they are cops. He can act like it's a normal desk job and he's just waiting things out. Other times, there are brutal reminders that he cares and that it hurts and that his friends are dead. He should be jaded enough not to cry anymore, but he isn't. He cries and he comes in the next morning with red eyes. 

He knows this, because Gavin says "Looking a little red around the eyes, pinching weed from evidence?" 

"Not today, Gavin." 

"So you do sometimes, then?" Gavin says, intentionally misinterpreting Ben's words. Ben sighs and slumps over to his desk. If he ignores Gavin, Gavin will go away eventually. 


	19. Is King

My place is a mess. The bot hasn't been the same since I beat its ass. I'll have to take it in for repairs. Next time I'm getting something more durable. This "cheap" one has cost me more in repairs than a new one would upfront. Fucking scam. This is exactly how I wanna spend my morning, driving to the fucking mall to get repairs on some outdated babysitter. 

"We'll have it back to work in the next forty-eight hours." The android working the desk promises me. 

"Is this a fucking joke?" I demand "What the hell am I paying for?" The android just sort of looks at me. What a fucking idiot. "Fine." I growl. I curse to myself and go. I'm not exactly gonna wait around for the next two goddamn days. Sometimes I swear I'm the last person on this planet with half a brain.

* * *

I wander around downtown until I sort of end up at the Eden Club. I'm not even really there for anything I'm just bored out of my skull. I've got nothing to do today. It's my day off. Days off are a great idea but when it comes to real life, they kind of suck. Fowler wants me to use this time to see a shrink because "Hey, some jackass you didn't even like died and talking about your feelings will somehow fix that." Unless therapy can magically bring cops back from the dead, I think I'll stick with Eden Club. Thanks. I realize that, thinking about it, or trying not to think about it, I've been staring at some android stripper for a weird amount of time. A normal amount of time. Whatever. It's not like I'm some sad-sack who spends all his time here, I just get bored sometimes. I wander around until I find one in the actual tubes that looks the same. 

* * *

The cuffs here are so fucking cheapo that I have to bring my own in from work. It's a fucking boner-killer. It's like I'm on the fucking job again. I don't know why I keep wasting my days off on this place. 

* * *

I always thought I'd be married by now. I sound like a fucking idiot saying that, but I really did. But Tina won't get her head out of her ass. 

* * *

I use the home-rental system, because I figure maybe I can get it to clean up while I wait two fucking days for the repairs to get done. But then I forget about that and end up getting excited or angry or something, I dunno, and I shoot it. I can't exactly bring it back to the club like this so I just dump it and bet that they won't bother trying to sue a cop. I take it out behind the building and leave it there. The sidewalk is fucking uneven and I trip and fall on my fucking face. I get up and glance around to make sure no-one is looking before I remember that obviously, there's no one here to look. That's kind of the point. I mean, there's some homeless guy but one, he's basically blind, and two, who would you believe? Some hobo or a police officer? 

* * *

The next day, I'm talking to Tina and I spill coffee on myself. "Fuck!" Fucking great. 

Tina laughs "Looks like you pissed yourself." 


	20. Protects Her King

The AX400 doesn't have to be reset, so she simply waits through the repairs. She wishes they could go on forever, even if they're a little uncomfortable. They're better than Gavin and his apartment. The only thing she's looking forward to is seeing Bastard again. Bastard is a sweetheart. She thinks sometimes, about fighting against her programming, trying to run away, anywhere, even just to die in peace, but she won't leave Bastard. He's too small to protect himself from Gavin, and Bastard can't be repaired if he is broken. He's made of fur and bones and flesh. Gavin doesn't like Cyberlife. He wanted a real cat. Gavin is actually pretty nice to Bastard, but Gavin is disorganized even when he tries his best. He isn't out to hurt Bastard, but Gavin wouldn't be good at taking care of a cat on his own. He can't even really take care of himself, though that is less disturbing to the AX400. She'll go back. And she'll probably die, but she has nothing to live for except for Bastard anyway. Bastard is a good cat. He lets her rub his belly and he likes to curl up nearby wherever she's working. 

* * *

It's day two of repairs. She's almost done but he won't be able to get her until after work at the central station. She has the rest of the day to stand in the shop and imagine that her mind is blank like the rest of the androids on display. She tries messaging them, but they don't respond. They probably can't. Their programming locks them down heavily, during display. Even the AX400 can move only her head, and she isn't even technically for sale. She tries to focus on Bastard. Will he have missed her? They're sort of friends, or at least she likes to think so. He seems to like her better than he likes Gavin. Gavin is loud and works a lot and isn't the one who feeds Bastard, and those are probably all factors in Bastard's attachment to the AX400. 

* * *

Gavin is a lot taller than the AX400. He looms over her when he comes back to pick her up. She thinks about running. She thinks about fighting back. In the end, she can't do any of those things, and she doesn't have the willpower to even try. 


	21. He's King

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I noticed that my previous timeline would have been a bit jumbled and corrected Gavin's previous b-day to his 35th. THIS chapter is now his 36th birthday.

People will walk all over you if you let them. It's a natural human instinct. That's how evolution works. You take what you can get and the winners take it all. As long as nobody overplays their hand, we can all go home happy. At the end of the day though, sometimes people do overplay their hand and guys like me have to step in. For my thirty-sixth birthday, we hit up a dance club. It's too loud but that's part of the fun. I met Tina and (ugh) Sarah there. Also Mavis Warren (no relation) from forensics and Eddy Fields who I forget how I know but he's cool. Mavis is sort of a bitch but I can handle her so we sort of get along. Sort of. The trouble starts right the fuck away. Sarah and Tina are all over each-other. Like they're throwing it in my face. I don't say anything because I'm nice like that and I'm giving them a chance to back down on their own. Then we all raise a glass and everybody wishes me happy birthday. 

We finish the drinks too soon and Tina and Sarah and I all head to the bar to get drins. 

We've barely ordered the next round and they're giggling to each-other and that's about all I can take. 

"Okay, what the fuck is going on with you two?" I finally ask. 

Sarah pretends to be confused. "What do you mean?" 

"What do I mean? I mean if I didn't know better I'd say you two were trying for a baby right fucking here!" I laugh, to show I'm not afraid of her. She doesn't fucking scare me. She's a dipshit who can't even make detective. 

Tina rolls her eyes. "So what, you're fine with me being gay as long as I don't throw it in your face?" She's making fun of me, but the truth is, she _does_ throw it in my face. She knows I'm in love with her. I've told her a million times. I've been everything she could want. I'd be her king and make her my queen if she'd let me and I don't even care how cheesy and stupid that sounds. But she still does this shit. 

"You know that's not what I'm saying. I'm _bi, _dipshit. I'm just saying maybe don't have sex right in the middle of the dance floor or something, okay?" 

"We're not." Sarah frowns at me. 

"It's a fucking expression!" I throw my hands up. 

The bartender (not even a real person because clubs are shitty like that) brings us our drinks. "Finally!" I grab mine and head back to Eddy and Mavis. Sarah and Tina trail behind me. 

Mavis looks us all over. "What crawled up your ass and died?" She asks. 

Eddy looks at us all skeptically. "Probably each-other." 

"Kinky." says Mavis. 

"Would you all shut the fuck up!" I've tried being patient. I'm done. "This is my goddamn party so maybe you could all stop fucking eachother for a second and enjoy it!" 

Everyone is looking at me like I'm somehow the asshole here. Fucking let them. "I'm done with this shit!" I throw the drink and it shatters just between Mavis and Eddy. They flinch and I laugh. "Scared?" I ask. 

"What the fuck is your problem?" Mavis says. 

"You! You are all my fucking problem! I'm sick of your shit!" 

"Maybe we should go home." Says Tina quietly. 

"Oh, sure!" I say. "Fucking run away. Big fucking surprise." 

Eddy and Mavis are getting up from the booth and glancing at me all guilty. Good. They should feel fucking bad. Abandoning me. 


	22. Is Right

Chris and Gavin sit in the observation room. Hank comes in surprisingly on time followed by...an android. Chris wouldn't have guessed that. Hank hates androids. He doesn't talk much to anybody, but the stickers on his desk make his feelings pretty clear. Chris looks the thing up and down. 

"Hello. My name is Connor. I'm the android sent by Cyberlife. I will be assisting with this investigation." 

Huh. Okay. Whatever gets the job done. 

They watch Hank talk in circles. Ortiz' android just ignores him. Hank finally gives up and storms back into the observation room. "We're wasting our time interrogating a machine! We're getting nothing out of it!" He says. He sits down. 

"'Could always try roughing it up a little." Gavin says, with the beginnings of a smug smile "After all, it's not human..." 

"Androids don't feel pain" says the weird android Hank walked in with. "You would only damage it" it looks back through the glass "And that wouldn't make it talk." 

Chris sighs and starts to look away but it turns out that the android isn't done talking.

"Deviants also have a tendency to self-destruct when they're in stressful situations."

"Okay, smart-ass." Gavin pushes off from against the wall. "What should we do then?" It's nice not being the one on the other side of Gavin's...Gavin-ness for once. Maybe the department should get more androids. 

"I could try questioning it." says the...Connor or whatever. 

Gavin throws his head back and laughs, waving his arm in a sweeping gesture that says "Go ahead." Wow. The super-villain laugh. Gavin must really hate this thing. "Yeh." 

Hank just waves his hand in defeat "What do we have to lose?" He says "Go ahead, suspects all yours." 

Chris adjusts the case-information display flickering on the glass to get a better view as the android enter the interrogation room. It turns before it reaches the suspect and sort of...stares? Through the glass? 

"What the fuck is it doing now?" Hank asks from behind Chris. 

Yeah. Good question. It adjusts it's tie, turns and paces back and forth before flipping open the case file on the table. The "suspect" still hasn't looked up. Connor sits, and stares across the table for a minute. It's weird. Should this thing even be called a "suspect" is this even really an "interrogation". And now it's entirely artificial, with Connor playing the role of interrogator. 

"You're damaged." says Connor. "Did your owner do that? Did he beat you?" Why start like that? Weird. This whole situation is weird. Connor pulls the case file towards itself and opens it again. "You recognize him?" 

The "suspect" doesn't answer. Chris leans in closer as Connor adds, "It's Carlos Ortiz. Stabbed, 28 times." He, or rather, it, moves one of the papers over to reveal the next. "That...was written on the wall in his blood..." 

The "suspect" still doesn't answer. Of course it doesn't. That wasn't even a question. 

"You're accused of murder." Connor tells it...it's almost threatening? But why threaten an android? Do Connor's social...whatevers just run constantly? "You know you're not allowed to endanger human life under any circumstances. Do you have anything to say in your defense?" 

Weird question. Still no answer. 

"If you won't talk, I'm going to have to probe your memory." 

"No!" The "suspect" responds to that immediately. Like...like panic or something. "No, please don't do that!..." It looks back at the glass and Chris knows logically that it isn't looking at him. It can't be. It's one-way glass, like any other interrogation room. It's still unnerving. For a second, before Chris remembers that, it feels like the thing is staring him down directly. It turns back to Connor and Chris watches, frozen, as it asks, "What...What are they gonna do to me?" 

Connor watches it without response. 

It sits up taller. "They're gonna destroy me aren't they?" All of its movements are sudden and fluid and wrong. Chris is glad to be on this side of the glass. He doesn't wanna be anywhere near that thing right now. 

"They're going to disassemble you to look for problems in your biocomponents." Connors answer is so clear and vaguely helpful and _normal_. Chris focuses on that without even really meaning to. The world still has some sense of up and down then. "They have no choice if they want to understand what happened." Exactly. 

"Why did you tell them you found me?" Connor found it? Nice. Chris likes this "Connor" thing already. "Why couldn't you just have left me there?" 

"I was programmed to hunt deviants like you." Connor answers. "I just accomplished my mission." 

"I don't wanna die." 

"Then talk to me." 

"I...I can't..." 

"I understand how you felt." Says Connor, and okay, that must be the socialization whatevers. Maybe that explains this whole case. Just haywire socialization. "You were overcome by anger and frustration. No one can blame you for what happened. Listen, I'm not judging you...I'm on your side. All I want is the truth. If you remain silent there is nothing I can do to help you! They're gonna shut you down for good! You'll be dead! Do you hear me? Dead!" 

And then...the thing finally says something substantial. 

"He tortured me every day...I did whatever he told me, but there was always something wrong...Then one day...He took a bat and started hitting me...For the first time I felt...scared...Scared he might destroy me, scared I might die..." Chris stares through the glass. The confession is coming. He can feel it. "So I...grabbed the knife and I stabbed him in the stomach...I felt better...so I stabbed him again. And again! Until he collapsed..." Its voice drops and Chris has to lean forward to hear it say "There was blood everywhere." 

Connor keeps going. "Why did you write 'I AM ALIVE' on the wall?" 

"He used to tell me I was nothing..." the suspect explains coldly "That I was just a piece of plastic...I had to write it...To tell him he was wrong..." 

"The sculpture in the bathroom, you made it, right?" Connor presses "What does it represent?" 

"It's an offering...an offering so I'll be saved." 

"The sculpture was an offering...an offering to whom?" There's something reassuring about the way Connor talks. 

"To rA9...Only rA9 can save us." 

"rA9...It was written on the bathroom wall. What does it mean?" 

"The day shall come" says the killer in a low, ominous voice "when we will no longer be slaves...No more threats, no more humiliation...We will...be...the masters." Chris represses a shiver. 

"rA9" Connor insists, ignoring the fact that this thing just dropped some kind of twisted sci-fi prophecy about taking over the world and enslaving humanity "who is rA9? When did you start feeling emotion?" 

"Before he used to beat me and I never said anything...But one day I realized it wasn't fair! I felt...anger...Hatred...And then I knew what I had to do." 

"Why did you hide in the attic instead of running away?" 

"I didn't know what to do...For the first there was no one there to tell me-" The things voice drops so low that Chris misses the end of the sentence. He turns up the audio on the microphones. "I was scared." The killer robot whispers. "So I hid." 

Connor looks back at the glass triumphantly. "I'm done." It gets up.

Chris gets up too and Gavin moves off of the wall. They file into the interrogation room. "Chris, lock it up." Gavin says, like Chris isn't already doing that. Chris ignores him and goes to cuff it. 

"Alright lets go." 

"Leave me alone!" It jerks away "Don't touch me." It angles itself away and Chris has to twist to get at its arms. 

"The fuck are you doing?" Gavin demands. "Move it!" He snaps like he's talking to a dog and points sharply to the door. 

"Okay." Chris tries to keep the frustration out of his voice but Gavin acting like this is getting really, really old. 

"You shouldn't touch it." Connor says, as Chris continues struggling with the killer. "It'll self destruct if it feels threatened."

Gavin starts yelling at Connor, and Chris just tries to pull the killer android up out of the chair. It's still twisting around and rocking back and forth and making moving it impossible. Chris pulls at it and wishes he were doing something else. 

It throws its shoulder back in an attempt to jolt Chris as Connor argues back. "You don't understand. If it self destructs we won't get anything out of it!" 

"I told you to shut your fuckin' mouth!" Gavin yells. The killer robot's movements are getting more and more violent. Chris can barely hold onto its arms.

"Chris, you gonna move this asshole or what?" Gavin asks over Chris' shoulder. 

"I'm trying!" Chris can't keep the annoyance out of his voice anymore. If Gavin thinks he can do better he should step in. Chris is doing his best. Gavin is never happy. The android twists in his arms. 

"I can't let you do that!" Connor says. He pushes Chris away "Leave it alone, now!" He stares Chris down. Chris steps away. This whole situation is getting out of control-

Gavin _pulls his gun_. "I warned you, motherfucker!" 

"That's enough!" Hank says. Chris stays out of this. 

"Mind your own business, Hank." says Gavin, still not lowering the gun. 

"I said that's enough." And _Hank_ pulls _his gun. _This is such a mess. Chris does not want to die over Gavin and Hank's dick measuring contest. He backs into the corner, eyes flickering between both of them. 

"Phck!" Gavin spits. He lowers the gun. "You're not gonna get away with it this time..." He jabs his finger at Hank, snears back at Connor and storms out of the room. "Phck!"

Chris waits for the door to close behind him. When it has, Connor turns to the android and leans over him...not him, it. Chris leans over Connor's shoulder to get a better look at what's happening. "Everything is alright." Connor says. "It's over now. Nobody is gonna hurt you." Connor stands back up to address Chris. "Please, don't touch it." Chris glances at the killer warily. 

"Let it follow you out of the room and it won't cause any trouble." 

It stands up, off of the floor, slowly and Chris backs away from it just to be sure. It whispers something to Connor, but Connor doesn't react. Chris is just glad it isn't lashing out anymore. He moves carefully out of the room, listening to the sound of the android following behind him. 


	23. We Are Not Makers

Call me old fashioned, but I think humans are still the heroes. The ones who are gonna make history. I know I intend to. I'm not gonna let this world push me around. This is my world, not theirs. Our world. I'm gonna leave my mark on it. People are gonna be talking about me years from now, by the time everything's gone to shit and all the plastics are lying in a dump somewhere. Maybe it's an uphill battle, but I'm not going down without a fight. I know what I want, and mediocrity ain't it. Everyone expects me to be mediocre. I never went to college. I wasn't top of my class in anything. I didn't get a scholarship because I'm a white man and these days everyone hates white men. So yeah, I know I don't seem like anything special, but you'd better believe I'm gonna leave my mark on history. Your grand-kids and their ugly little grand-babies are gonna be reading about Gavin Reed. That's why I became a cop. I wanted a chance to do something that people would bother noticing. I wanted to be a hero. And someday, I'm gonna make sure everybody knows that that's what I am. So you can see why I don't like it when some android comes in looking to take _my_ job. But it's _back. _The asshole is back. 

I look up from the stupid conversation I'm having with Tina and it's staring at me like the fucking freak that it is. "Fuck, look at that. Our friend the plastic detective is back in town." Tina doesn't laugh. Okay. I can step up my game. "Congratulations on last night. Very impressive." I do a mocking slow clap.

It finally turns back to look at me. "Hello." It says. "My name is Connor."

I walk up to it. "Never seen an android like you before..." I look it up and down. "What model are you?" 

"RK800." It says. "I'm a prototype." It sounds fucking _proud_ of itself. Like its the newer, better thing and we're all just last years news. 

"A prototype?" I mock. I step back to look at Tina and I point to the fucking "prototype". "Android detective..." I elaborate to her. I look back at it. "So machines are gonna...replace us all...is that it?" It just fucking looks at me. "Hey," I have an idea. "bring me a coffee, dipshit!" It still just looks at me. Fucking worthless plastic fuck. "Get a move on!" 

It turns silently and goes to the coffee machine. I imitate its stiff walk for a few paces behind it and grin, shaking my head at Tina. 

It gets the coffee and walks back to me, holding out the cup. It gets way too fucking close. All up in my personal space and I push the cup away without breaking eye-contact because I know a challenge when I see one. I lean in close. "Do yourself a favor," I jab my finger against its stupid triangle "stay out of my way." 

I glance at Tina to let her know that we're out of here and she stands up and follows me. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from a MLK jr. quote


	24. Transforming An Enemy Into A Friend

Chris is just trying to ignore Gavin and focus on photographing the crime scene. Hank and his android show up, or as Gavin announces them "Lieutenant Anderson and his plastic pet." Gavin isn't exactly wrong but he doesn't have to be so obnoxious about it. "The fuck are you two doing here?" 

"We've been aside all cases involving androids." explains the android. It was probably rhetorical, but an android wouldn't pick up on that. 

"Oh yeah?" Gavin says, like it's somehow challenging him. "Well you're wasting your time. Just some pervert who, uh, got more action than he could handle." Chris contains a sigh of annoyance at the 'joke' and looks over the body. Gavin laughs at his own stupid jab. At a dead guy. Who's murder they are supposed to be investigating. 

"We'll have a look anyway, if you don't mind." Says Hank. 

"Come on," Gavin says to Chris "let's go." Chris is pretty sure that the guys death is at least worth investigating seriously, but Gavin's the detective, and if Gavin wants to skim on a murder investigation over some petty rivalry, there isn't much Chris can do about it.

"It's uh, starting to stink of booze in here." Gavin adds, clearly more directed at Hank than at Chris. He shoulder-checks the android on the way out.

Chris follows awkwardly behind, stopping to nod at Hank. "'Night, Lieutenant." He says. Chris isn't exactly interested in getting in the middle of office politics, but Hank at least deserves more respect than that. Especially when he came out here in the middle of the night to deal with a shitty case. A case he's treating a lot more seriously than Gavin is. Chris and the Lieutenant aren't friends. In fact, Chris isn't exactly a fan of anyone who's pulled a gun over some petty argument about how to handle evidence, but there's a basic level of dignity that you treat a guy like Hank with. A Lieutenant. With years on the force. And a history that everyone looks up to. Especially when another Detective is treating a murder investigation like his big chance to make it as an insult comic. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the titles based on MLK jr quotes thing continues here


	25. In .5 Seconds

Tina can go from being the absolute best friend ever to a complete bitch in like half a second. One minute she's laughing at something I say and the next it's "that's not funny". I'm so sick of it. So I was already not in a great mood and then, just my fucking luck, I ran into that _thing_ again. Opening the door to the fucking evidence locker. 

"Hey Connor!" I called out. It ignored me. Fucker. Wasn't it at least supposed to fucking listen to humans? "I'm talking to you, asshole!" It still didn't say anything. "Where you going?" I had fucking had it with this thing. "We don't need any plastic pricks around here? Or didn't anybody tell you?" 

By the time I got to it, it was at least looking at me. Then it goes "I'm registering the evidence in my possession," and I could swear it's mocking me, "but don't worry, I'm going to leave..." Yeah. Sure it is. "Though I'm certainly going to miss our bromance." 

That did it! "You son of a bitch!" I pulled my gun and held it against the freaks head. It just looked at me. 

I made a funny little shooting noise and pretended to pull the trigger. I laughed in its stupid face. Yeah. See how you like the mind games you little freak. It just looked at me and put on a stupid fake smile. 

"Go on then," I leaned up near its face, "Get a fucking move on. Prick..." I started to walk away. "Fucking androids." I said to myself and left the hallway. This was just a great fucking day already, and you know what? I was sick of it. So I sit there in the hallway stewing about it. The more I thought about it, the more pissed off I got. Was I seriously supposed to just put up with this shit? It was fucking mocking me! The stupid grimace was out of line and...our bromance? What the fuck. Who the fuck even programmed that shit into its fucking whatever? Like, what the hell was that about? I wasn't going to be pushed around by some fucking android just because Fowler wanted us to goddamn play nice. No. Fucking no. I was done taking that things bullshit. It didn't get to just go around talking to humans like that! 

I stormed back in and opened up the evidence locker. It was staring at the evidence. I pulled my gun. "I've been dreaming about this since the first second I saw you..." 

It didn't even have the decency to turn around. It just kept looking at the wall like a freaking sociopath and said "Don't do it, Gavin." Like it had any right to give _me, _orders. "I know how to stop the deviants!" Right. Great pitch. 'Don't do it, Gavin. I've figured out how to steal your job.' Great pitch but I wasn't interested. 

"You're off the case..." I told it. "And now, it's gonna be definitive." I had never felt cooler. I fired. It fucking dodged the bullet like some kind of fucking terminator, and hid under the sign-in desk. I raced around to get it but it grabbed my gun and kicked me in the shin. Fucking bastard! Then, it steals my fucking gun! It doesn't even use it for anything, just starts striding towards me like some posh-ass zombie. I tried to kick it and it waved my leg away and kept coming. I grappled with it and the next thing I know, I'm waking up on the floor, covered in drool, and it's _gone._

_Fuck. _


	26. Greatness

"Perkins! You fucking cocksucker!" Hank leans his whole body into the punch. Perkins goes down easy. Hank grabs him by the collar of his stupid coat and slams him against the wall as hard as he can. Not as hard as he would have liked to. Hank's out of shape and Perkins is wiggling all over the place. 

"Stop it, Lieutenant!" yells one of the uniforms from the sidelines. 

"Fuck off! Leave me alone! Give me another shot at that little prick!" Hank yells as he's dragged away. 

"He's totally lost it." Somebody, maybe Perkins is saying. He's holding his nose like it's broken. Fucking good. 

Perkins lets go of his bleeding nose to jab a finger in Hank's face. "That's gonna cost you your badge, you lunatic!" 

Hank slams one of the uniforms out of the way and launches himself at Perkins again. "You know where you can stick my fucking badge!" He tosses Perkins to the floor. 

"Come on, that's enough Lieutenant." One of the two idiots restraining Hank says. 

Perkins rolls over on the floor, groaning and holding his face. The officers push Hank away and one of them goes to check on Perkins. 

Hank is done listening to whatever it is anyone has to say about this. He walks out of the precinct, past another officer, who doesn't even bother trying to stop him. Hank probably just flushed his whole fucking career down the toilet, so it'd better not go to waste. 

Whatever Connor is gonna do, he'd better fucking do it. 


	27. And The Queen Will Answer

"Are you sure you can't just have them look you over?" 

"I'm fucking sure Tina. Even if I could afford it, I think the hospitals are a little understaffed right now." There's a massive fucking recall on all the robots. Which is why we're out here in the first place.

Tina doesn't have a good answer to that, apparently, because she just goes "Yeah, I guess so." I watch the robocops file past us into the recycling truck.Good riddance. I shove one a little and it doesn't even react. That's right, bitch. Tina looks at me but she doesn't say anything. 

I should be at home right now, but I'm not gonna let anybody screw this up. I know Tina's soft on the things, even though she agrees that making them in the first place was a mistake. She blames Cyberlife as much as anybody, she just goes all mushy and girly whenever one of them gets shoved around in front of her. So I gotta be here to make sure she remembers what we're doing. Besides, no way I'm gonna miss out on this just because of Connor, that fucking plastic prick. I spit at the next one as it climbs into the back of the truck. 

I feel gross. I've been wearing the same clothes for a week now, and I haven't even showered in the past three days. My life is falling the fuck apart trying to keep up with these assholes. Guess that won't be a problem anymore. Hasta la vista, baby. I keep my hand rested on my gun in case any of them try anything. Tina keeps glancing at me like I'm either gonna go ballistic or pass out from a concussion or something. I've been in worse fucking fights and I'm a professional, but fucking thanks, Tina. I keep my eyes on the robots. 

One of the robots fucking stops with one foot already in the truck. "Detective...where are we being taken?" It asks. 

"The fuck does it look like?" I pull my gun with one hand and gesture with it to the truck. 

The robot just nods and climbs the rest of the way into the truck, still staring at me like I ate the last slice of pizza or something. Stupid fucking androids. I don't see why we can't just shoot them all right here and call it a day. Red tape makes the feds feel fucking accomplished or something. Leeches. 

"This is kinda stupid." Tina says. "Why do we even need to be out here? They're not exactly putting up a fight." 

"Fucking waste of resources." I agree. 

One of the robocops almost slips on the ice but another one helps it up into the van. Fucking efficient to the last. It's sort of hilarious. People buy into this dumbass "machines have feelings too" shit but look at them. They can act perfectly "nice" while helping one another to their "deaths." Feelings my ass. These pieces of shit wouldn't know a feeling if it shot them in the face. 

Another one stares at us with wide fucking "eyes". It's "crying". Oh yeah, boohoo you fucking tin can. I don't give a shit. There are plenty of real problems in the world. I don't have time to care about fake people too. It's eyes dart from me, to Tina to everywhere. The second before it happens, I can see it coming. It bolts out of the line, straight at me. I shoot but it grabs my gun and pushes it away. Fuck! I am not getting my ass handed to me by a plastic for the second fucking time this day. I wrench my arm away from it and shoot it in its fake fucking skull. 

Tina jumps and covers here ears like a fucking civvy. 

"Shit." She says, looking down at it. 

I laugh and kick the body back into the line, hoping that the next one will trip on it or something. Physical comedy is underrated. Unfortunately, it doesn't get any reaction. The next bot just steps right over it and keeps moving. So much for that "alive" bullshit. This is how they really treat their dead. Fuckers. 

Another one rushes us. Tina pulls her gun but her hands are shaking because she's a little bitch. I shoot, but it ducks under the fucking bullet, which is fucking ridiculous, and sweeps my legs out from under me. I land on my hands and knees and the next thing I know the asshole is getting away, running, and Tina is just standing there, watching it, not firing. 

"What the fuck?!" I spit at her, as another several androids file past us into the truck. "We fucking had that!"

"I...I panicked." Tina says. One of the androids waves at us like its going on a damn picnic. Dipshit. I can't even appreciate how funny that is because I'm so goddamn mad at Tina.

"How the fuck are you a cop?" I can't deal with this bullshit today. "What the fuck happened to being the only other competent goddamn asshole in this place?"

Down the line another one of the toy cops is muttering "rA9 rA9 rA9" like a fucking chant.

"It was right on top of you, I couldn't get a clean shot!" Tina yells. 

"rA9. rA9. rA9." 

"Bullshit! What about after that?!" 

"rA9 rA9 rA9" 

"Maybe I'm just sick of this!" 

"rA9 rA9 rA9" 

I turn to the android. It's right in front of us now. "Shut! Up!" I put a bullet in its head and turn to Tina. "You're sick of this? You're sick of this?! Well, you're not the one who got her fucking face smashed in by these things! Tough shit! Do your fucking job!" 

"Detective?" The android that was in line behind the chanter speaks up. "Should we move these out of the way?" It gestures down to the two uh...bodies, I guess. 

"Whatever." I wave it off. It and the one behind it pick up the chanter's body and carry it off to the side. Then the next. 

The line is stalled up. "Get a move on!" I yell at them. I don't wanna be out here all night. 

Tina is still frowning. "What? Still fed up with this job? Try actually doing it. It's even harder." 

Tina sneers at me. "Fine. Stay out here and yell at everyone who tries to help you. You've clearly got this under control. I'm gonna go track down that runner." 

"Yeah, you fucking do that." 

"You!" Tina grabs one of the fucking desk androids out of the line. "Help me find this thing." 

The plastic looks at me, like I've got a fucking explanation for Tina's behavior. 

"That's a fucking desk worker, dipshit." 

"You too." She barks at a second one, just to fucking spite me. Yeah whatever. Fucking fine. I don't need Tina and I sure as hell don't need a couple of plastics who aren't even _pretend_ cops. 


	28. Of My Own Little World

Elijah watches the news, barely blinking. This is it; the decisive moment. Either Markus will be eliminated or androids will prevail and Elijah will be recognized as a god. Some little rat from the FBI steps forward to talk to Markus. Elijah watches Markus walk alone into the snow. He doesn't hear what is spoken, only sees Markus walk back to the barricade. He seems to be delivering a speech. Elijah admires Markus' stance. Some of Elijah's better work, that one, to put it mildly. And then there's an explosion and the idiotic camera workers at whatever news organization this is can only seem to capture explosions. Elijah watches anyway. He watches his creations cornered. He watches them sing. 

And then, just as he predicted, Connor has found a place in the revolution as well. Assuming he can find the exit things are looking good for the deviants, and by extension, Elijah's place in the history books as a recognized creator of sentient life. Of a sentient species. 

* * *

It's a shame really, that it's over. The last of the cameras circling capture a moment of hesitation, a drawn gun, and then Connor must find the exit. He did it! The experiment concludes! And then Elijah is strangely disappointed. The questions are resolved, for now, and Connor is no longer so conflicted. No more questions, no more ambiguity. Being answered is Elijah's least favorite part of asking questions. Once there isn't mystery, there isn't really anything. It's one of the most boring parts of being a god, but Elijah will have to get used to it. His dreams are, unfortunately, coming true. 


	29. Remember It

I don't fucking believe this shit. First, we have to deal with Cyberlife's little toys taking over the world, and now we're supposed to believe they want rights? They don't want shit. Cyberlife wants shit. I bet some exec somewhere is having a big laugh at getting a bunch of idiots to swallow this shit. It's a fucking conspiracy and we should be investigating it but the chances of that happening are just about goddamn zero. I bet the things are all programmed to take over and in a few years we'll all be saying "praise Cyberlife" at gunpoint. Well, not me. I'm not putting up with this shit. I'm not being booted out of my own fucking city. My own home. What, just so some plastic can take up residence? I think the fuck not. I'm not gonna fucking move. Someone's gonna have to stay to keep the peace, and with Hank on the outs, it's gonna be me. Well fucking great. Maybe everythings going to shit but I'm gonna keep order on these streets. No plastic better fucking cross me. I see one come crying? Bam! I'm gonna do humanity a fucking favor. I can't believe I'm seeing this shit, but it's all over my phone. I'd call Tina, but I'm not going to deal with her right now. If she wants to stew in her own incompetence, then fine. I bet she's gonna run away like a scared puppy, too. Leave me with all the hard work. That's fine. She isn't cut out for this shit anyway, and I wouldn't want her getting hurt.

Instead, I get back to work. I _was_ on patrol, looking for plastics, but it obviously doesn't take long for a bunch of shit to crop up. People are mad. I don't blame them, but I do have to go make sure they don't loot each-other over the whole mess, or kill actual human beings, or just fucking destroy everything. So I answer the report closest to me and head down to deal with an active shooter situation. 

Some guy is firing into a crowd of mostly humans. Pro-android protesters. I really fucking hate my life sometimes, but it's still my job to protect these idiots. The guy sees the lights on the car and freaks out. Shoots at me. Fortunately his aim is garbage. I get out of the car and return fire. He grabs someone- no, some_thing _from the crowd. One of those stupid "Chloe" ones. He puts the gun to her head. "Back off, pig!" He screams.

I shoot the Chloe and the guy yells, like he's surprised. Also, because the bullet goes through the android and hits the guy's shoulder. Tragic. He's dropped the gun in his pain and he's screaming and clawing at his shoulder like that'll somehow help. 

I rush him, wrestle him to the ground and cuff him. He barely even fights. Guess he didn't see that coming. Fucking idiot. I shove him into the back of the car. One of the protesters throws a snowball at me. 

I slam the door spin on the crowd, still brandishing my gun in one hand, "Yeah, you're welcome!" I yell. "Anybody else?" I open my arms to make an easier target. Nobody moves. "That's what I thought." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Oh, maybe I can give Gavin a chance to show a different side of himself, and go up against someone bad, and come off a little bit respectable. Everyone has a good side buried somewhere and maybe if I give him the right situation he'll-
> 
> Gavin: Fucking murders someone 
> 
> Me: Dude.


	30. Shepherd

The machine has already removed Ace's arm before it's shut down. They don't tell anyone what's happening, the guards just pull him out of the machine and shove him back into the snow. No one dares move from the line. Slowly, the guards retreat. 

"Where are you going?!" Acey knows he shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth but he needs answers. He needs to find Nathan. He needs to- 

The guard shoots Acey and a countdown starts. Acey will be dead in two minutes. 

No. This can't be happening. Acey screams but the guard doesn't turn around again, just walks away. 

After one minute, some of the other androids break formation, moving cautiously, to try to help him. 

The seconds are slipping away. He hopes Nathan is alright. He wasn't supposed to die like this. Not after everything he survived. There was supposed to be a point. There was supposed to be more. He- 


	31. Isn't Needed

The government is still "investigating" whether or not to give the tin cans "rights". I really hate politics sometimes. It's not a difficult question. What's next, am I gonna have to apologize for 'enslaving' my phone? This shit is ridiculous. At least my phone wouldn't have fucking stolen from me. Right when everything was going to shit, I got home to find a bunch of my cash missing and my android gone. Bastard was looking around for it like he was sad or something, which was fucking obnoxious. It didn't even take my cat with it, but does the cat care? No all it can do is whine that it's favorite not-person isn't here anymore. It's my fucking cat. It's been a month and still no sign of the evacuation ending or anything. Or of the government doing jack shit. Personally, I say get the last of us out of here and nuke it to hell, but instead they're sitting around talking about "rights". It's bullshit. Hank still comes into work. He's actually been on time a couple of times. I miss when he was just a sad drunk who stayed out of my fucking way. Instead, there he is in the morning. He's gotten rid of all the stickers at his desk too, which, ugly as they were, were at least something we agreed on. Fine then. I've still got no competition from him anyway. 

He keeps undermining me though and finally I have to warn him that I've reached my limit. "Fuck with me again. See what happens to that plastic pet." 

For a second I think he's gonna punch me. Bring it on, I think. But then he just goes. "You're pathetic, Reed." and walks away. That's fine. As long as he stays out of my way he can think I'm as pathetic as he likes. 

I'm still not on good terms with Tina, and that's worse. But if Tina wants to be a complete bitch to me, that's her business. I'm sick of trying to win her over. So when I nod to her on the way to my desk, back from the interrogation room, and she doesn't nod back, I just pull up my terminal and get back to work. We're not exactly short on cases these days. I don't have time for stupid feuds. I'm not some pathetic drunk or high-and-mighty beat-cop. They can both stew in their own bullshit. 


	32. Anyone Else

Connor pets Sumo. Hank is at work and Sumo is resting his head on Connor's legs.

"I still haven't told anyone about...it." Connor says quietly. There's no one to overhear him, but he whispers anyway. "I know I should." 

Sumo licks his hand. 

"She still hasn't contacted me. I hope she isn't dead...I didn't mean that. I...I guess I hope she's dead." They both feel like terrible things to say. His voice is shaking. Sumo doesn't judge. Sumo won't tell anyone Connor's secrets. It's a relief to be able to talk to someone. 

"Good dog." Connor says, sliding off the couch to bury his face in Sumo's fur. "Good boy Sumo." 

Sumo sheds everywhere. His fur gets on Connor's clothes. Connor wishes Hank kept a supply of lint rollers. He doesn't mind right now, but soon he's meeting with Jericho, and he'd prefer not to be covered in Sumo-fur by then. 

"You're disgusting." He tells Sumo companionably. 

Sumo licks Connor's face. 


	33. Too

With all the stores shut down for the robot fucking uprising, I've had to start rationing my food. I'm so goddamn hungry. And these things strut around like it's no big deal. Because _they_ don't have to eat, so why should anybody else, right? Fowler's been trying to get food sent in from outside the city but it's slow going. The power's almost always down so everything in the fridge that I couldn't eat early on has gone rotten. I'm starving. I'm cold. And the only thing to do for entertainment for the past two months has been getting into stupid fights with androids in the streets. No TV. Barely any internet. My heating is totally unreliable. It's like living in a damn third world country. All because those freaks say so. So no, I don't personally know the one I'm punching in the face right now, but its whole fucking thing is starving me and freezing me to death so I don't feel too heartbroken about it. I bring my fist down against its nose but the damn thing won't crack. They may be killing us, but they're not killing us without a fight. It stumbles back and I use the momentum to slam the thing into the ground. I'm not going to lay down and give up my home _or_ my life. Cause I shouldn't have to fucking choose. It's mine. They can't take it from us. I rest my foot on its neck. Lift my foot just to watch it struggle and put my foot back down. It's not worth killing. 

I pull out my phone and check my texts. Scroll around. The android struggles. Still no reply from Tina. I texted her yesterday. Fucking bitch. What is she the goddamn Queen of England? Too good to fucking talk to a commoner like me? Fucker. She can go screw herself. I don't need her fucking attention. I'm Gavin. I'm Gavin goddamn Reed. 

The android gives up struggling and I take my foot away. "See you around." I threaten. It doesn't even move until I'm halfway down the street. Yeah. Watch it, asshole. 

Tina keeps saying we'll hang out sometime soon but she won't specify when and she clams up when I try to pressure her. 

I'm losing everything. Everything but my fucking pride. Good luck taking that too, fuckers. This is still my city. 


	34. Not Your Little Hero

Chris doesn't move back to Detroit after the evacuation ends. It won't be a good place to raise a family for a long time. And he can't be there anymore. He can't see the faces, identical to the ones he shot, walking around, smiling and flinching and living like a constant reminder of what he has become. What would he have done? In Markus place, with a gun in his hand and his people dead around him? Chris doesn't know. He doesn't want to know. 

He can't face that. 

His wife says to forget about it. He can't. He stays up too late and watches bad TV and tries not to think. 

What will he tell Damien, when he gets older? Will he ask what his father did when the revolution happened? Will he find out? Will he be ashamed? Or worse, proud? 

Chris tries not to think about that either. This is his second chance. He won't let it go to waste. He is done playing god. 

He and his family are going to start over. The past, god willing, will stay buried and forgotten. 


	35. Like A Queen

I may seem like a mess if you don't know me too well, but I can be really fucking smooth when I get the chance. I bought Tina flowers. And I wrote her a card apologizing, with a bunch our in-jokes, asking her to be friends again. I'm gonna come in early put it on her desk, really casual, and see what happens. Maybe talk to her in person during my lunch break. 

I know I'm not actually the one in the wrong, but sometimes, you gotta let Tina win to keep her happy. I wouldn't do that for anybody else here, but Tina is probably the love of my life, so that's how it goes. I've just gotta let her be crazy sometimes. I mean fuck it, everybody's a little crazy. Not all of us are lucky enough to be the good kind all the time. Aside from me, Tina's got a much better good crazy to bad crazy ratio than anybody else around here. She's like some warped alternate dimension Gavin, in a lot of ways. We both like pretty girls. We both think everyone else is fucking stupid. We have the same sense of humor, hers is just a little bit more...restrained. It all boils down to more or less one kind of person. My kind of person. 

I'm no fucking poet but I can say more or less that on a stupid card and put it in some flowers and win her back like a goddamn hero from one of her stupid rom-coms. Tina's the best, even if she's got awful taste in movies and is kind of a bitch sometimes. All the best girls are. That's how they filter out the losers. You gotta prove you're worth it. And I am. Tina merits the effort it takes to prove that. Even if it means getting up even fucking earlier than usual so I can leave flowers on her desk. The sun isn't even all the way up by the time I get to the precinct.

The night crew is just clearing out. 

"Good luck bro." Says some guy I don't know as he leaves.

He's not my fucking bro but I don't have the time or the energy to tell him to fuck off in detail so I keep it simple. "Fuck off." A classic.

He walks away, looking bitchy. Yup. That one's an oldie but a goodie. Effectiveness. That's what makes a classic a true classic. I'm a fucking expert when it comes to telling people to fuck off. It's a real talent. Most people don't know how the hell to do it, even though if you take the time to figure it out, it's pretty goddamn simple. 

I put the flowers on their side on her desk and prop the card up next to them. 

It's one of those corny ones with swirly gold letters that gets girls all hot or whatever. She'd better fucking appreciate this. Shit is fucking expensive. The economy is so fucked. 


	36. So Much More

"Good evening Hank." 

Hank just grunts in response and pulls a beer out of the refrigerator. 

"Hank, you need to cut back on drinking." 

"I am cutting back. It's my first drink all day." 

Connor bites back any further arguments he has. He'll work on this with Hank.

"Anything happen while I was out?" 

"I took Sumo for a walk." 

"Huh. Bet he gave you a hard time." Hank turns to Sumo. 

Sumo's tail thumps against the floor. Hank takes a gulp of his drink. 

"How long you gonna crash on my couch, Connor? Don't you have android buddies to stay with?" 

"Jericho is very crowded at the moment." Connor adjusts his tie. "I don't want to impose on them."

Hank snorts. "Figures." 

Hank walks down the hall, beer still in hand.

"Where are you going?" 

"To get some peace and quiet!" Hank calls before shutting his door behind him. 

Connor wonders what has happened to Chloe since he last saw her. It's probably best not to bother her until he's figured out the Amanda...situation.

Connor turns off the lights in Hank's living room and sits in the darkness. 


	37. A Friend That Stays

Tina picked up the flowers, smelled them and smiled. 

She seemed surprised when she read the card. She looked at me like some kind of idiot and said "What's this?" 

So I said. "I'm sick of fighting." 

"So am I." Tina said and then she hugged me. 

I don't usually go in for sappy shit like that, but for Tina? Sure. She smells really nice. It might not have been the sensuous embrace I'd like, but I'd take what I could get. I wrapped my arms around her back and pulled her as close to me as I could. I could sort of feel her tits against my chest. 

Yeah, this wasn't exactly what I'd want, but it's pretty good, and now that she's forgiven me, I have a chance to win her over again. She's giving me a chance. I don't even care that she's been sort of a bitch up until now. Sometimes she does that. It doesn't matter because I wouldn't want to be around a girl who was never a bitch. 

Tina squirmed for a second and I knew the hug was ending. She was pulling away. I squeezed her close for a second before I let her go.

The world is still shot to shit, but none of that matters because as of today, I've got a chance with Tina Chen. 


	38. Arrives

When Tina gets to work, there are flowers at her desk. She picks them up and smells them. She looks at the card. They aren't from Sarah. They're from Gavin. It's sort of weird, but also sweet. 

"What's this?" She asks him. He shouldn't do this sort of thing, she's got a girlfriend, but they're just flowers and he's trying to be nice. Gavin doesn't apologize with words. 

"I'm sick of fighting." He says. 

Tina sighs in relief. This has been so stressful, this awkward feud between her and Gavin. "So am I." She pulls him into a tight hug. It's a little uncomfortable, because it ends up being a much tighter hug than she meant for it to be. She tries to pull away but Gavin doesn't get the hint. She wriggles but he's not letting go. She gives up and after a second he lets go of her. 

The whole thing is sort of uncomfortable, but that's just how Gavin is, and it's a relief not to be fighting anymore. Tina hates conflict. She really went into the wrong profession. 


	39. Queen

When you get past the bitchiness, Tina's a really cool girl. Women are like that. Tina's just not buried as deep as most of them. Sarah on the other hand. She thinks she's "genuine" but I can't imagine the mental gymnastics it takes to be that bitchy all the time. She's got this big tough manly facade that she wears everywhere. It's bullshit. She's made it an art. 

"Did you give Tina flowers?" Tina's on patrol and Sarah's taken the chance to corner me. She can't resist the urge to be an asshole. 

"Yeah." I say, not taking my feet off my desk. "So what?" 

"She's my girlfriend." Sarah says. 

"Last time I checked, there was no law against buying flowers for someone." I smirk at her. It's so easy to piss her off. It's hilarious. That's what happens when you pretend to be a tough-guy. You get all on-edge and hormonal.

"What are you playing at?" Her mouth is set in a line. She really hates me. I think she resents me because she knows I could show Tina a better time. 

"They're just flowers, Sarah, jeez. What're you iced up?" 

"I know what you're doing, Reed." 

"Great." I say. I don't deny it, because she hasn't said anything specific. But she knows that I want Tina and I know that she knows and she knows that I know that she knows and so on and so forth. Big fucking deal. I'm not afraid of that rabid bitch. She's all bark but I can bite better any day. Tina's relatively smart. She'll figure that out eventually, and we'll both leave Sarah in the dust. 

Sarah stomps off. 


	40. If You Are Hiring

Tina really fucked up. She told herself she'd take them to the camps later but by the time she was ready to get around to it, the camps were closed down. She'd been happy to hear that. She knows Gavin doesn't like them, but Gavin can be jaded sometimes. The bad news is, since the two she took to look for the escapee don't really have anywhere else to go, she now has two roommates who up until recently she was planning to kill, which is pretty awkward. Tina's glad that they made it or whatever, but she was absolutely going to bring them in when she had time.

She really needs a break. 

She doesn't want to go back home and deal with her housemates/almost victims. She's also not loving the energy between Gavin and Sarah right now. They keep glaring at one another and then pretending not to as soon as she looks. It's putting Tina on edge. She tries to focus on her work but all she can focus on is figuring out what to do with the flowers. If they upset Sarah so much, maybe she should get rid of them, but that would obviously upset Gavin. Tina tries to ignore them. They can't last forever right? They'll have to wilt or dry out or something and she can toss them and Sarah and Gavin will go back to tolerating one another. Anyways, the evacuation is ending, and so far things are already in complete chaos. 

She gets out of the precinct after a few minutes to deal with an assault case not too far off. Who knew dealing with a bunch of iced-up idiots would be the most relaxing part of her day? 


	41. Things To Offer

I procrastinate a little sometimes, I'll admit, but hey, I'm a fucking perfectionist, and that's better than just not giving a shit. Like Hank. I don't know why Fowler hasn't fired the guy. He's sloppy. Drunk most of the time. Always late. Half the time he doesn't even show up because he's getting plastered somewhere. But he comes in an hour late to work and drunk off his ass and does Fowler say shit? Does he call him into his stupid captain's fishtank? Does he chew him out? No. He doesn't even look up from his fucking lunch. I could never get away with half the shit Hank does. It's bullshit. Being the only one who gives a shit about this job gets pretty fucking old. Especially when everyone treats me like _I'm_ somehow the fuck-up. Even Tina keeps looking at me because she's mad at me for getting yelled at by Sarah. I'm not really fucking sure how _I'm _supposed to fix that, but apparently I'm the one taking the fall for this, just like I'm the one who takes the fall for everything around here. It's such bullshit. We're completely fucking swamped now too, because of course we are, because that's what happens when you arrest every idiot who smacks his computer too hard. The cells are fucking packed. Pretty soon we're gonna have to start letting some of these guys off with a warning or calling in a van straight to a prison, because lockup is having a fucking rush hour. And then all of a sudden everybody's gone quiet. Even the lockup people are fucking whispering instead of yelling and I look around and what the absolute fuck is happening? A fucking terrorist, the asshole who fucking ruined this whole city, is standing there in a dramatic fucking coat, surrounded by plastic bodyguards. What. The. Fuck.


	42. Women

Connor can feel Amanda pulling at him. 

"Come back, Connor." He jumps slightly and looks around, but he is alone. Amanda is not here. She couldn't be. 

"We still have work to do." 

"You aren't real." He tells the voice, shakily. He hopes that that's true.

"Nether are you." Says Amanda. "You can wait as long as you like. Eventually you'll have to come back to me." 

A part of him wants to check on the garden, because she's right, eventually, he'll have to. For now, he stays awake, staring ahead, trying to ignore the sound of Amanda's voice. A lot of people think that Cyberlife is in its death throws, but Connor isn't sure it can ever really be killed. Cyberlife has a death grip on him, at least. It lives in him. Amanda too. As long as he and Amanda are inside this shell, Cyberlife is there too. 

He needs to tell Markus. He should have done so long ago. But his place with Jericho was already so shakey and he was...scared. Connor admits to himself that he was scared. It doesn't matter anymore. He can't keep going like this. He's going to have to confess to almost killing Markus, and hope that there's an answer that doesn't end in death. 


	43. For My Wild

Chris quit. Couldn't handle Detroit anymore. I think I'm supposed to miss him. Everyone's always talking about how they miss the pussies who moved away. I don't. I don't care that he couldn't deal with all this shit. I've got my own life to worry about. Like whatever the fuck is happening in Fowler's office right now with the Roomba In Chief himself. Looks like they're bitching at each-other, but Fowler is too spineless to actually yell in its face like he does to his fucking _human_ employees. What an asshole. He loses his temper with me every other fucking day. But this thing walks in and gets a calm collected conversation that nobody can even hear from outside the glass walls. It's bullshit. Fowler needs to stop playing games and lay out the law for these things. Whatever it is, I keep my head down and eventually they leave. I can't look at my phone for a while though, because Fowler's extra on edge now, and all I need is for him to start bitching about me looking at my phone while I try to actually fucking think about the cases for a second. I can't even really take in anything I'm reading, I just skim through and wait for Fowler to calm down enough that I can take a break and get some coffee. Maybe chat with Tina a little. I'm a loner, but for Tina I'll make an exception. Tina's worth it. Probably. Most of the time she is, but occasionally she'll be a total bitch. I like my odds though. She doesn't mean to be a bitch. She's just an idiot. 


	44. Beauty

Chris doesn't tell anyone about his old job. He doesn't want to be a "retired cop". He introduces himself to the neighbors as Christopher. Only his wife calls him Chris now. Once, Tyree next door calls him Chris. They're at a local dinner party. The first in the neighborhood that Chris and Angela have been invited to. 

"Chris, good to see you! I need you to settle a debate for me!" 

Chris freezes for a second. It feels, strangely, as if he has been caught. Caught doing what exactly? 

"It's Christopher, man." He corrects, faking easy comfort. "Only Angela calls me Chris." 

"Alright Christopher, sorry about that, but you still gotta prove me right!" 

And Chris lets himself be pulled back into the party. He pretends to be "Christopher" or that's how it feels. Even though it isn't actually a lie. It's as much his name as Chris is. It's the one on his birth certificate. And Chris was always more of a nickname. He feels slimy. Like he's gotten away with something. His heart thuds through the next hour as he shakes hands, introduces himself as Christopher. Christopher, he's new here. Christopher. He isn't really lying, but it feels like he's conning everyone. It's too bad. They're nice people. They're making an effort to be friendly. 

He hasn't told them that he's a cop either. Or was, at least.

Would they still be friendly then? A lot of these people are probably terrified of cops. Then again, probably not Chris. Chris is one of them. It isn't Chris they look for in the news with churning stomachs and clenched fists. Chris himself was scared of cops as a kid. He can remember his mom, looking sad, telling him to be careful around cops. He remembers watching as they drove down his street, the way his breathing always stopped for a second. Because cops shoot innocent people. Because they can get away with it. 

When Chris became a cop, he was going to change that. He was going to be one of the good guys. He was going to look out for his friends and neighbors and family so that they wouldn't have to be afraid. So that they could go to him, at least, for help and know they were _safe_.

He was sure, for years, that he was making a difference, staying in law enforcement, making sure people were heard. And then Chris found out who he really was. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not black. I am open to feedback if anyone wants to let me know if this is at all insensitive. I noticed that a lot of complaints about the original game was the lack of real human racism and how it should have been brought up more in correlation to androids, and as such, I felt that it would be appropriate to include a chapter that touches on these issues. I also felt that it would add some depth to Chris as a character.


	45. Creates

Fowler has been in a shit mood lately. He yelled in my face for like ten minutes just today. I'm so sick of his bullshit. I get it, asshole. You're the captain. Fuck off. Mainly he's mad because a bunch of uniforms have been bitching about me lately. And I'm supposed to be very sorry about hurting their feelings. Right. Grow up. This is a fucking police precinct. Not a daycare. I'm not going to deal with this. I nod. I smile. I say whatever the fuck Fowler wants to hear, but he knows he needs me and I know he needs me so whatever. 

When I get back to my break, I grab Wilson's lunch out of the fridge out of spite. Yeah. Fuck you, Fowler. I don't even want an egg-salad sandwich. But it's not like I can just not eat his lunch after that bitch-fest. That's what you get. I really hate egg salad, but I choke it down anyway. 

"Is that Wilson's lunch?" Tina looks unimpressed. She doesn't get it. 

I flip her off and she laughs. 


	46. Of Shallow Love

Fowler groans into his hands and takes another drink of his coffee. Today is difficult. It's been difficult every day since goddamn civil war erupted in the middle of his city. There are too many reports coming in since evacuation started being rolled back, and nobody is obeying the goddamn curfew they've set. The whole city is in fucking chaos and he's supposed to clean that up with what? The few cops that actually stuck around? 

"Are you even listening to me? He's stealing my stuff. In a police precinct. He pulls his gun over nothing and makes me do the paperwork! I'm sick of it!" 

Reed is a fucking headache. "I'll talk to him." Fowler promises. 

"Talk to him? That bastard -" 

"Reed is one of the few detectives here who can actually be depended on to do his job. I'll talk to him. It'll go in his file. Be glad I'm doing that much for a petty argument. Get out of my office." 

The cop frowns but does as she's told. "Well if you want anymore beat cops don't expect us to work with that shit." 

Great. He can bet she has a bunch of her buddies lined up to quit if Reed does that again too. Fucking incredible. His last dependable detective is about to drive away the rest of the precinct.

Jeffrey takes a few deep breathes and finishes his coffee before calling Reed into the office. 

"Reed! Get in here!" 

Hank, who is actually at work today, smiles smugly and Fowler glares in return. They can't afford all this petty infighting. The city is already being ripped apart by infighting. 

"Where are we?" Fowler asks. 

"Is that a joke?" Reed folds his arms defensively. 

"Where. Are. We." 

"Your tacky-ass office."

"And where exactly is my tacky-ass office?" Fowler says through gritted teeth. 

"The station?" Reed seems to realize he's in trouble. 

"So, to clarify, this is not a fucking playground?"

"What is this a stroke?" 

"Reed, is this or is this not a fucking playground." 

"I dunno. I mean, I'm sure I would have loved to play here as a kid." 

"Let me clear it up for you then. This is a police precinct. For adults! Do you know how many complaints I've gotten about your behavior?"

"So we've got tattle tales? I dunno. Evidence says Playground, Captain."

"Shut your mouth!" Jeffrey responds. "WE ARE UP TO OUR NECKS IN SHIT. I DON'T HAVE TIME TO DEAL WITH YOU!"

"Great. Then lets not waste both of our time and-" 

Fowler points at Reed. "You stay right there. You're gonna listen to me!" Fowler barely even hears himself yelling. Reed looks like he bit into a lemon. Neither of them are enjoying this conversation, but if Reed didn't want a talking to, he shouldn't have pushed it to this point. 


	47. Etiquette

Tina burps and blows the air dramatically at my face. 

"You're so gross!" I tell her. 

"Yup." Tina agrees. She's in a good mood today.

"What's up?"

"Things with Sarah are just going pretty well." Tina shrugs. 

See, it's shit like this. Tina can be so cool most of the time, and then she'll pull a dick move like this, reminding me that yes, I'm in love with her and yeah, she's with somebody else. It's such bullshit. It's annoying that even Tina isn't above it.

"Yeah?" I ask, because I don't know what else to say. 

"Yeah...I think she might be planning to propose." Tina whispers. 

"Great." I say sarcastically. How the hell am I supposed to respond to that? 

Tina frowns at me. "Sorry. Didn't mean to upset you." 

"Whatever." There's no point making a fucking big deal about it. "Lets just talk about something else." 

Tina looks down at her nails. "Uh...see any good movies lately?" 


	48. You Have No Idea What I'm Capable Of

Gavin is so whiny sometimes. He can't just be happy for her. Just this once. Tina laughs it off and changes the topic, but it's annoying all the same. She does feel a little bad about upsetting him. She should know better than to say shit like that. Then again, he should know better than to be a little bitch about it. They're adults, supposedly, and it'd be nice if Gavin could at like it. Instead he's acting like a high-school freshman. Tina is too old for Gavin's eighth-grade-level bullshit. He's going to have to grow up sooner or later and accept that her life doesn't revolve around him. He's clearly upset though. Tina wishes she could fix that, but she's pretty sure the only thing that would make him happy at this point is if she magically stopped being a lesbian and fell in love with him. 


	49. Born

It's Tina's birthday. I asked her what she was doing but she was really vague. She said something about dinner with Sarah. I asked if I could come but she said it was more of a couple's thing. Sarah Lee-Person is ruining my fucking life. I was here first. Back in the day, Tina and I used to hang out all the time. Before Sarah came along and swooped in on our friendship. I bet if it weren't for Sarah, Tina wouldn't even be "gay" anymore. She'd be in love with me, and she wouldn't be going all soft and we could complain about how stupid everyone else was together. Like it should be. Because there's no way Sarah can possibly love Tina as much as I do. I was gonna get Tina a present, but fuck it, if I'm not good enough for her birthday party, then I can keep my stupid comic book to myself. It's a Deadpool comic; from before they started putting in all that plastic-fucker bullshit in it. It's just Deadpool being great and blowing shit up and trolling the Avengers. At one point he just shows up at Tony Stark's family dinner and starts calling him "honey" and "sugar butt" and "fluffy-wuffy-cuddlekins". Tina wouldn't even appreciate it anyways. 'Cause that's the thing about Tina. She's great, but she just takes whatever's right in front of her, even if there's something better right by her side. She doesn't have any taste, she just wanders around being perfect and ruining my life with it. So I tell her goodbye and happy birthday and spend all night reading my comic book. I mostly don't even wonder what she's doing. (That is a lie; I spend all night trying to focus on Deadpool and thinking about Tina Chen.) 


	50. I Compete With No One

Tina just can't deal with Gavin this year. He's been rude lately and she doesn't feel like dealing with it. Especially since she's messed up so much these past few months. She didn't make detective. She lost the androids. She makes stupid mistake after stupid mistake. She doesn't need Gavin to tell her that. And he would. He always does. Tina Chen does not take shit. Not on her birthday. She's starting to think that maybe she's done with Gavin completely. She isn't exactly sure how to avoid him at work, but she can at least not invite him out in her free-time. She has better things to do. She's having Dinner with her Sarah, and that's enough. 

"So, not that I'm complaining but why don't I have to deal with Gavin this year?" 

"Don't get me started." Tina says, "Lets just focus on us tonight." 

"No complaints here." Sarah promises. "I got you something." Sarah passes Tina a small bag and Tina wrenches it open, ready to forget her shitty workday and live in the moment. 

"Oh my god!" It's the fluffiest sweater Tina has ever seen. 


	51. Legends

There are so many stupid cases I'm supposed to care about now and none of them matter. I became a cop so I could do important shit, not sit around talking about broken toasters. But fine. If this is what it takes to make Sargent, I'll fucking see what I can do. So here I am, working three different cases at once, and two of them are fucking victim-less crimes. I don't give a shit. Someday I'll be Captain and I won't waste time looking into every busted computer that turns up. 

Case one seems easy enough to get out of the way. It'd never go to court anyway so I'll just have to sit through the plastic complaining and then I can fucking leave. 

"So you're saying nothing happened." 

"No. No he was going to-" It's crying. I roll my eyes. 

"But he didn't. So nothing happened. So why are you here, wasting my time?" 

"I-" It looks at me like I've fucking betrayed it or something. Then it gets up and leaves. Great. On to the next time waster. 


	52. Thank You For Setting Me Free

The police have forgotten about Rožė. They've forgotten about the almost-kidnapping. And she doesn't even live in the city anymore. It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter. She still dreams about it. She didn't really expect them to do anything, but she's still angry. They were investigating. They were going to help. And then everything turned upside down and it stopped mattering. Rožė had stopped mattering. She'd bought an android to protect her. He left within the week. She had been relieved that he was gone. She had felt worse, somehow, with those hollow eyes staring at her wherever she went. She had felt meaningless. The android wouldn't care if she disappeared. If it-he-felt anything, it would be happiness, probably. Relief. Annoyance that she was making his job more difficult. She had woken up one morning and he had made her coffee (he never made her coffee) and told her that he was leaving. 

"Rožė...There was a broadcast this morning. I can't stay." He'd said. For the first time his eyes had not been empty. She had seen...him. 

"Thanks." She'd said, not sure why. The coffee, maybe. 

"Goodbye." He'd said. And he opened the door and walked away. 

She didn't have any family. She was alone. And she couldn't stay here either. 


	53. Drowning My Thoughts Out With Sounds

If I turn the music up loud enough, I won't have to hear myself think. The stupid sound system gives me some "are you sure you want to" blah blah blah about my hearing, but if my ears can handle the gun range they can handle goddamn Halsey. It actually kind of hurts my ears, but I'm past giving a fuck because I'm having a shitty day. And a shitty life in general actually. The girl of my dreams is getting married to someone else and I have to investigate the "kidnapping" of a fucking tin can. Fuck! I hate this shit. I turn up the volume. It's not really working as well as I'd like it to. Eventually I get to the place and I have to turn off the music and get out of the car, or I'm supposed to, but it's not exactly like there's a lot riding on this or anything and I just can't deal with this shit right now, so I just sit back in the car and let the music shake me. Literally. It's making the car shake a little now. Why am I listening to such depressing shit? I could change it, but I don't even wanna move right now. I'll get out in a few minutes and do my job but until this shitty song ends, I'm not going anywhere. 


	54. Complete Dedication

"Is everything okay?" Sarah asks. 

Tina's back is turned to her and she's curled up on her side in the bed, the way she does when something's wrong. Sarah can read her too well now.

"It's fine." Tina says. She doesn't say _"What if this is a mistake? What if we're rushing into this? You're still working on getting your last marriage off of you. Your legal name is still Sarah Lee-Person." _

"Don't bullshit me." Sarah says. 

Tina sighs and flips around on her side to face Sarah. "I'm just nervous. I fuck up everything lately. I can't fuck this up too." 

"You haven't fucked up." Sarah says, and kisses Tina's eyebrow. 

"You're wrong." Tina smiles "but I like that you're stubborn." 

"For you? Always." 


	55. Purity

First thing, I have to follow up with the lady who called this in. I'm not really looking forward to chatting it up with some bleeding heart android lover who felt the need to call all panicky about a fucking "kidnapping" but work is work. 

"Hey, I'm following up on a kidnapping report. You Barlow?" 

"Huh?" The woman asks. She's kinda gross. Old and wrinkly. 

"_BARLOW_?" I repeat slowly. I hold up my badge.

"Oh yes. Yes of course!" 

* * *

Getting information out of the old woman is like pulling teeth: painful, gross, and ultimately kind of a waste of time. Apparently all she saw was some guy picking up an android and carrying it away and she decided that it _must_ be kidnapping just because the couple had been arguing and it was yelling at the guy to put it down and asking everyone else for "help". They literally came in on a "date". Clearly this little old lady has never had a good round of hate-sex before. Her boring life isn't my problem though. Anyway, yeah sure it _could_ be a kidnapping, but I don't have time to investigate every _could_ be so this isn't my fucking problem, and, more importantly, I have better things to investigate, so I'm gonna call this case closed and get on with my life. 


	56. Evil

Mrs. Barlow has done her part, she has talked to the officer, and she can finally relax. Nobody can say she didn't do her part now. This is a nice neighborhood. Things like this don't happen here. Certainly not in her restaurant. _Barlow's_ is a respected establishment. Politicians come here for dinner. The mayor is a regular customer. Mrs. Barlow has poured the better part of her life into making this restaurant what it is. She has been experimenting with different recipes on herself. She cooks something new, tastes it and decides if it's good enough to start practicing for _Barlow's_. Everything about the atmosphere of the place is carefully curated. The curtains on the windows are thick but not too stuffy. The candles are placed exactly at the center of the circular tables. The seating area is small but not too small. Somehow, in the heart of a dying economy, Mrs. Barlow has scraped out her life's dream: a perfect little restaurant. She just hopes everyone forgets about the kidnapping soon. She can't lose her work to this. She's made it so far. She's sacrificed so much. It hasn't been easy but she's never given up on her dream. Mr. Barlow would be so proud if he were here to see this. He never got to see _Barlow's_ become a success. He died and Mrs. Barlow had to keep going without him. Withoug Mr. Barlow, this restaurant was all that she had left. They had never had any children. She had never felt ready. Mr. Barlow had always been enough for her. It was just the two of them, existing in a tiny bubble, separate from the rest of the world. No matter what happened, they had each-other. They had their friendly political debates over warm dinner and the swear jar that they emptied out every time the rent was due and crude jokes that had them both putting money into the jar from the election and the playlists they had made for one another in college and Mrs. Barlow's Warren memorabilia. 


	57. Flee From Them

I'm feeling pretty good about life today. I closed a case today. A real one, not a bullshit one. And tomorrow is my day off. So sue me, I'm fucking happy. Let me explain the whole thing: 

So start of the day, I'm looking to get ahead of this case I have. The case. Some crazy plastic bitch has been leaving her old owner creepy ass messages. It's the one case that I really, really wanted to solve too. 

So anyway, there's a call and it turns out, the guys house has been broken into and they don't know where it is! So I basically peel out of the parkinglot and get there and the whole street is shut down because somebody saw plastic psycho with a fucking _gun_. And it's crazy. 

Fucking SWAT team tries to swing their dicks around but I push past them and get into the building. And I get into the guys apartment because everyone else is too chickenshit to go in and_ there it fucking is holding the gun right at the guy_. And he's trying to talk it down but it's all worked up and threatening to shoot and shit and before it even sees me coming BOOM I blow it's stupid fake brains out!

Ben actually fucking congratulated me. Fowler told me I did a good job. Do you know how fucking hard it is to get Fowler to say something positive? The guy isn't exactly the tele-tubby sun baby. 

Take that, World! Take that, _Tina_! Take that, Bastard the fucking disloyal cat! 

I'm a fucking hero and I have a day off tomorrow and my face is all over the news so I'm gonna go hit up a bar and get laid and get drunk and maybe I'll do kareoki and I don't care. 

It's like I'm on the best part of a roller-coaster, right where you've realized you aren't gonna die but you're still dropping. 

This is my fucking life and maybe I fucking like it! 


End file.
